


The Wheel Turns

by EirinnGoBragh12



Series: Beginnings, Endings, Inbetweens [4]
Category: Backstrom (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-02 23:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19451341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EirinnGoBragh12/pseuds/EirinnGoBragh12
Summary: Sometimes when the wheel turns, it spins out of control, and all you can try to do is hold on, there's always relief when you gain control again, but that doesn't mean that damage wasn't done.Peter finds out some promises are harder to keep than others. During a police raid, Peter hurts someone who hurt Val, on purpose, or on accident isn't clear. There's no denying it felt good, but such is the wheel of violence, you cut me, and I cut you. Everybody loves somebody.





	1. The Wheel Turns

**Author's Note:**

> As always kudos are good, but comments are better :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's past is rich with opportunities for revenge, retribution, and redemption. And with such a past who can believe in happy endings and true love? 
> 
> Peter gets hurt on a routine raid,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO this was not quite ready. I wasn't done editing, and I don't like cliffhangers, I like to have the work finished, even if I post in parts... BUT a draft I was working on got deleted, and so in a panic, I'm posting this now. I doubt many people read it anyway, and the stories are mostly to sooth my own soul, but if you stumble here, and you are upset, my apologies. I just couldn't take losing my work ... AGAIN.

“How bad is it, just tell me?” Val said, his teeth were clenched and his breathing was shaky.

“I don’t know, Backstorm sent me to get you. Peter was unconscious when I left, but he was breathing.” Val shook his head as he rode beside Moto on his way to the hospital. It had been a good day, but then Backstrom had called. ‘Peter’s been hurt, get dressed, Moto is almost there.’ Val could hear the phrase over and over ‘Peter’s been hurt…’ Val bent over so his head was touching his knees. He felt like he couldn’t breath, not this. He knew he was never meant to be happy, but he didn’t think this would happen. He thought they would grow apart or fight, he didn’t imagine that Peter would just be taken from him. Of course this was a possibility, Peter was a police officer.

The emergency room lobby was full of police, firemen, EMTs, and hospital personnel, but Val was keeping his eyes out for one Lieutenant in particular. There had been a fire and an explosion in a warehouse by the docks. Several officers had been wounded in a raid gone very badly. Val saw several officers in bandages, slings, oxygen masks, most of them had burn marks, and soot stains from the fire. Val found Backstrom’s red poncho in a sea of blue, and grabbed his arm spinning him to face Val. “Where is he, how is he?” Val choked out. Backstrom looked genuinely upset. 

“He’s still being worked on,” Backstrom said gruffly. Val covered his own face, and took several deep breaths. 

“Is it really bad?” he demanded, his teeth clenched, his whole body tensed.

“Absolutely not, but you know how fragile Noodlemeyer is,” Backstorm said, “but there was a lot of smoke damage."

Val flinched at the ‘absolutely’ which meant Backstrom was ‘absolutely’ lying. However, that Backstrom was taking shots at Peter likely meant that at least some part of Backstrom believed Peter would be okay. "You guys look okay," Val said skimming the team with his eyes, there was clearly some smudges from fire, and sweat, but no one looked badly injured.

"Because no one else was stupid like him,” Backstrom groused, “We weren't on site when it exploded, but Peter went in to get people out. He should have waited for the fire department," Backstrom said angrily. 

"You seem really worried about him," Paquet remarked, patting Backstrom's arm.

"I'm not worried about Niedermayer," Backstrom snapped quickly, he looked at Val and Val could see the concern in his eyes, "I don't like it when my team doesn't follow my orders, and I told him to wait outside," Backstrom complained angrily. 

Almond's hand came down on Backstrom's shoulder and he put one on Valentine's. "Peter is smart, strong, and a fighter, he's going to be fine," Almond comforted.

"Good, because I'm kicking him off the team when he gets out," Backstrom muttered, "stupid doesn't listen," he grumbled under his breath. 

"The EMTs and doctors are working hard. Peter was unconscious," Almond said, patting Val's shoulder, "but he was breathing and he did open his eyes for a moment when we got here and asked about you." Val didn't blush, he wasn't sure he possessed that ability anymore, but he did duck his head a little and smile. He bit his lip, Peter would be okay, he had to be. It was just some smoke he'd breathed in, that was fine, firemen did it all the time, it would be okay, but a heaviness clung to his heart and he had to push away other thoughts, as fear tried to creep to the forefront. 

“There’s one other thing,” Backstrom said, his eyes skimming the team, and using a hand motion to get them to back up. “Come here,” he said, grabbing Val’s shoulder and taking him into a hallway.

“What?” Valentine asked. 

“The warehouse belonged to Natasha and Adrik Faydrick,” Backstrom said, and Val’s head whipped up. 

“Excuse me,” he said, his eyes wide, his brows knitting together in disbelief. “Did Peter know that?”

“Yeah,” Backstrom confirmed, “he tagged Adrik, but him and Natasha got away.” Val rubbed his face hard, images of a long ago bad trick flashed before his eyes, and he flinched a little remembering the sting of a whip. 

“Is that why Peter went in?” Val asked, his voice tight, he licked his lips and willed the tears coming to the surface to retreat. “Is he hurt because of me?”

“No!” Backstrom snapped in a whisper, getting closer to Valentine, “he got hurt because he’s stupid. He had no business going in there for vengeance or to help people.” Val shook his head, and sucked in a breath, swallowing hard, his teeth clenched. 

  
Val dropped his head down, “did he really look okay, is he going to be okay?” Val’s hands were on his hips, but he tilted his head just enough that he could watch Backstrom from under his lashes.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Backstrom shrugged, and he put his hand on Valentine’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do, do you want a hug or something?” Backstrom said looking everywhere but at Valentine.

“No, I don’t want a fucking hug,” Valentine snapped with an eyeroll. “I want a lot more than a hug, but from Peter.”

“Oh, don’t talk about sex and Neidermayer, I’m going to be sick. I thought you had impeccable taste, how do you have sex with him?”

“You want details?” Val asked, his eyebrows shooting up in a teasing fashion, “Do you want to hear…” 

“No! No, no, I do not,” Backstrom said stepping back, and holding up a hand. Val continued to smirk, it felt good, to have a break, to not feel as worried. He missed being at the barge sometime. 

Val couldn’t recall the details of the next few hours, he paced, officers came and went, eventually the lobby dwindled to Backstrom, Moto, Almond, Gravely, and Paquet. A few other uniforms wandering in and out, but Val didn’t look at them. He paced, and sat, and stared and occasionally pestered doctors, nurses, receptionists, or Backstrom about Peter’s status, but everyone said things were going as planned, and Peter was in some oxygen chamber, still unconscious. Val slumped into a chair, put his feet up and buried his face in his knees. He didn’t mean to fall asleep like that, but at some point someone had put a jacket over him. He woke, blurry eyed. Hospital personnel, and others were still moving, but Backstrom and his team were asleep. Gravely and Paquet had the two long benches, and Almond, Moto and Backstrom were all propped up in chairs. 

Val let his legs down and felt the tension. It took a minute to get feeling in them so he could walk. He went to the nurse’s counter. “How is he?” he whispered.

“He is in ICU recovering, Mr. Valentine, he hasn't woken up yet,” she offered, her voice somewhat less irritated than the other twenty times he’d inquired, “I'll let you know as soon as we hear something.” Val nodded, and made his way to the men’s room. He shuddered at his appearance in the mirror, he looked like a zombie extra in an apocalypse film. He didn't want Peter to wake up to this. He relieved himself of several cups of coffee and gallons of water. He was washing his hands and splashed some of the cool liquid on his face. Val then retrieved his eye liner, and began fixing some of the smudged makeup. He was so tired, and he felt frayed around the edges. Val jumped as a hand came down on his shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” said an officer in uniform, he smelled of smoke, just like most of the others, but didn't appear injured. 

“Is it Peter?” Val asked, his heart slamming hard against his ribcage, as he watched the cop in the mirror. 

“No,” said the officer, “I just thought you looked upset.”

“I’m okay,” Val said, waving him off, reaching for his mascara so he could reapply it. 

“I don’t know if you remember me,” the officer started. Val felt something in the back of his mind, a faint sense of danger. Val studied the officer's reflection in the mirror, brown hair, brown eyes, forties, a foot taller than Val, great build, definitely not the impetitious for cop donut jokes. 

“I’m sorry,” Valentine said shaking his head, as he caught sight of the name tag, ‘Officer Bennett.’ Val had a brief flash of a slightly younger man, perhaps ten years ago. Val remembered getting busted for prostitution and Officer Bennett had been the arresting officer. Bennett had busted him half a dozen times, and Val always ended up in handcuffs, but never saw the inside of a cell, they had an arrangement.

“I see you remember me,” Bennett beamed a bit. “I’m sorry about your friend.” 

“Thanks,” Val said, feeling very stupid for having come into the bathroom alone. Living with Backstrom for seven years, and then Peter had made Val soft. “I’m going to go check,” Val started to say and turn around. 

“He’s still in ICU,” Bennett said putting his hands on Val's shoulders, and massaging slightly, Val tensed, his hands gripping the counter. 

“Look, I know this is probably rough. I was surprised to hear that Niedermayer was keeping a hooker, but SCU does whatever it wants with Backstrom leading, is he passing you around the team as a reward,” Bennett shrugged. “Anyway,” Bennett said, reaching for his wallet.

“I need to get back,” Val said, again attempting to shrug Bennett's hand off of him. 

“Listen, it’s been a rough day for both of us,” Bennett said. “Some of my team were on the front line," Bennett closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head, "Let’s help each other out," and he put fifty dollars on the counter, his hand going around Val's waist.

“I don’t do that anymore,” Val said, pushing him away and attempting to turn. 

“What you’re too good for patrol, you’ve worked your way up to a Lieutenant,” Bennett spat, pushing Val back against the counter. Val used his hands to catch himself. 

“I don’t do that for anybody,” Val growled, staring at him defiantly in the mirror.

“All those times I let you go,” Bennett narrowed his eyes, his hand still pressed into Valentine's back, “you ungrateful whore.” 

“I paid for those,” Val said bitterly, his eyes narrowing. 

“You fucking faggot,” Bennett snapped, his face flushing red. Val tried to push past him, and Bennett grabbed him and shoved him into the wall. Val put his hands up to catch himself, he attempted to push back, but Bennett kicked his feet spreading them. "I'll arrest you for solicitation and assaulting an officer," Bennett snapped, grabbing Val's arm and twisting it behind his back, rough hands pretending to perform a frisk search, but Bennett was really just rubbing against him, grabbing him harshly. 

"No one will believe you," Val snapped, attempting to gain his balance. Bennett kicked his foot farther back and Val fell forward, his face scraping the tile, as Bennett twisted his arm, and Bennett's other hand went around to Val's buttons on the front of his pants.

"No one will believe you, Whore," Bennett muttered, twisting Val's arm painfully, pressing his erection against Val.

“No,” Val said firmly and pushed back, but instinct and aggression caused Bennett to twist Val's arm and there was a sharp snapping sound. Val yelped as he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring for a moment, he used his other hand to catch himself. Bennett released his arm suddenly and Val whimpered before he could stop himself as his arm dropped suddenly. 

“Oh shit,” Bennett said, clearly surprised. “Okay, look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Val sucked in air as his arm throbbed, trying to orient his thoughts. Val bit down a groan as he cradled his arm and willed the stars dancing before his eyes to disappear. He leaned his head against the cool tiles, a nice contrast to the burning sensation along his arm. 

“You know I didn’t mean to do that, you shouldn’t have attacked me like that, so don’t do anything stupid,” Bennett warned, “here, you're okay, okay? You're fine,” he said flinging the fifty dollars at Val and retreating. Val turned sliding his back against the wall and cradled his arm. He didn’t even have the energy to cry about this fucked up situation. Val looked at the money laying on the bathroom floor, it was interesting to have other people decide the value of your life. Twenty dollars, fifty dollars, a hundred dollars, fifty-thousand dollars, Val shook his head. Peter didn’t mean it that way, but if Peter had it was one of the more generous valuations. Val picked up the money and pushed himself to his feet. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror, his face was scraped, some blood, but makeup might cover it. His arm on the other hand, and he looked at his arm. He wasn’t sure what the snap was, it felt like something in his forearm. Val sighed hard. He didn’t even care that much, he wondered if Peter was okay. He did feel tears then. 

Val inched his way to the bathroom door. He peeked out and no one was there. He made his way out to the hallway and veered away from the waiting room. He wanted to check Peter’s status, but he didn’t want to run into the team at this moment. He crept down the hallway to the doctor’s lounge. 

After Val had helped Collin, Dr. Livingston’s son, Dr. Livingston occasionally let Val crash in the doctor’s rooms. There were a few rooms held aside for ER doctors or doctors on long shifts. He peaked in a few of the rooms until he found the sleeping quarters for Dr. Livingston. He looked and no one was about, so he quietly slipped in. 

“Doc,” he whispered.

“Wha, who,” Dr. Livingston startled awake, reaching for his glasses. 

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Val said softly. 

“Valentine,” Dr. Livingston said, and flicked on the light. Val averted his gaze at the sudden brightness, which gave the doctor a great view of Val’s facial injuries.

“What happened?” Dr. Livingston asked, grabbing Val’s face to look.

“It’s okay,” Val said, “but my arm,” Val offered.

The doctor adjusted his glasses. “What happened, Valentine?” he asked in a pained voice, he helped Val remove his jacket and started touching the arm. “It’s broken,” the doctor confirmed. 

“Can you fix it?” Val asked, still kneeling.

“Did your nice boyfriend do this?” Dr. Livingston asked with a sigh. 

Val felt tears prick his eyes, “no,” he whispered.

“Your body language says otherwise.” 

“No,” Val said shaking his head, and he looked at the doctor, “Peter’s been hurt. He was in the fire.” Val choked on the last part, and the doctor hugged him.

“I’m so sorry Val,” he said, “of course I’ll help.” Dr. Livingston helped Val up. "Sorry I'm just tired, Peter's been great, I hope he's okay." 

“Not that way,” Val said, as the doctor tried to lead him to the lobby. “If anyone sees me, it could cause a problem,” Val hedged. 

“What happened anyway?” the doctor asked. 

“I slipped in the bathroom,” Val lied. Dr. Livingston was watching him from the corner of his eye. 

“Valentine, I'm a doctor, I know what it looks like when someone falls in the bathroom, and I know what it looks like when someone," Dr. Livingston just sighed, "just tell me it's none of my business. But are you hurt anywhere else?" Dr. Livingston asked, watching Val from the corner of his eye. Val heard the emphasis on 'anywhere' and knew what the doc was really asking. 

"No," Val said firmly. "It didn't get that far."

"Peter's probably not going to buy the slipping story either," Dr. Livingston said under his breath, leading Val into an empty exam room. He started to get out equipment to measure vitals. 

“Can you find out how Peter is doing first?” Val said, desperation seeping into his voice. Dr. Livingston nodded and disappeared into a back office. 

“He’s stable, resting in intensive care,” Dr. Livingston said, "he hasn't woken up yet, but his numbers looked good, I checked."

“Can I see him?” Val asked hopefully. 

“He needs time to recover,” Dr. Livingston explained. “Come on, let’s get this arm taken care of, and your face,” Dr. Livingston offered. After getting vitals, the doctor sent him to x-Ray. Dr. Livingston showed Val the fracture. “We can cast to just below the elbow, and it looks clean. Four to six weeks should heal it. Do you have a primary?” Dr. Livingston asked. Val shrugged in the doctor's direction. "Can you come see me in a few weeks here, or do you want me to stop by? I'd like to get another x-Ray so I prefer you come here. I know sometimes that isn't easy." Val nodded remembering his recent reluctance to leave the apartment. 

“I can come here, I'm doing a lot better,” Val smiled. 

“If I give you a prescription can you have it filled?”

Yeah, but I was planning to just use vodka,” Val joked. Dr. Livingston hugged him suddenly.

“Thank you for helping Collin,” he whispered, and Val gently patted his back with his good arm. “I wish I could repay you.”

“We're even,” Val smiled. Doctor Livingston applied the last of the casting material, and gave Val a sling, helping him secure it at the proper angle. He gave Val a dose of pain medication, and then sighed deeply. 

“Come with me, just be real quiet,” The doctor instructed. Val followed along, looking at the clock, it was 4am. The doctor led him down a back hallway and a few personnel they passed gave strange looks. The doctor led him to ICU. He pushed back a curtain, and a few nurses looked at him strangely. The doctor led him to Peter’s bed, so many machines, but Peter looked peaceful, resting. Dr. Livingston closed the curtain.

“Can I touch him?” Val whispered, his voice feeling constricted.

“It depends,” Dr. Livingston smiled, “where?” Val smirked and gave him a look from under his lashes. Dr. Livingston nodded.

Val gently held Peter’s hand and kissed his forehead. Dr. Livingston stepped back behind the curtain and Val pulled up a chair and rested his head on Peter’s chest gently. He held Peter's hand. “I need you to be okay,” Val whispered. There was no response, and Val knew Peter was heavily sedated. “Please come back, okay?” Val pleaded, wetness in his voice. Peter still didn’t respond and Val hadn’t expected one. Val heard angry whispers and the phrase “he’s not supposed to be in here.” 

Val stood and leaned over kissing Peter, a tear sliding slowly down his face. “Je t’aime, okay?” Val said softly, the sound barely escaping. “Just get better, and I’ll be your stupid boyfriend,” he promised. Val left, and followed Dr. Livingston. Val hugged the doctor quickly, “Thank you.” 

“I can never do enough,” Dr. Livingston said, patting Val on his uninjured shoulder. “Get some rest.” The doctor watched Val walk down the hallway. Then he went towards the security office.

***

“How the fuck did you break your arm falling?” Backstrom snapped.

“I told you, it was dark, late, and I was tired,” Val explained. Almond, Moto and Backstrom eyed him suspiciously. “Look, I feel stupid enough, can we just never speak of this.” Backstrom narrowed his eyes.

“I’m you,” Backstrom said.

“We both know you could never be as awesome as me,” Val waived him off, “so don’t.” 

“I will let one visitor back,” the nurse said. 

“That’s me,” Backstrom spoke up, and Val elbowed him with his good arm.

“The hell it is,” Val said moving forward.

"He's probably very fragile don't be too gay on him," Backstrom called, and Val smirked and gave him a dirty look. 

Val followed the nurse to Peter’s room, and his heart leapt to see Peter propped up in bed, smiling. Val started to run, but then settled for a long stride. He hugged Peter, careful of the various cords, wires, and tubes running all around. Peter had a mask on his face, likely pumping oxygen Val guessed. “Hey you,” Val whispered.

“Hey you,” Peter said groggily, his voice raspy, likely from smoke inhalation. Dr. Livingston told him that Peter's vocal cords would be strained and possibly damaged from the smoke. Peter blinked a few times, and his eyebrows knitted together, “what?” He started to ask and then coughed.

“They said you shouldn't talk a lot so shush. I slipped in the bathroom, I don’t want to talk about it,” Val said, kissing Peter on the forehead. Peter sighed, and wrapped an arm around Val. “I missed you,” Val breathed into his ear. 

Peter nodded, his hand touching Val's chest and his own, as if to say 'me too'. Peter’s hand went to Val’s chin and he turned slightly to see the scrape marks, his thumb tracing the edge of one of them Peter narrowed his eyes, and Val could see he was suspicious and concerned. Val pulled his hand down and slid into the bed next to him. 

“Just scratches I’m fine. Nothing like being in a burning building,” Val emphasized, staring up at him, careful to keep the scratched side of his face away from Peter. “How do you feel?” Peter pulled off his mask for a moment, his mouth finding Val's, even as Val struggled and tried to get the mask back on.

“Better," Peter rasped, his hand grabbing Val's.

“That’s the morphine talking,” Val laughed, kissing Peter’s neck, and stroking him with his uninjured hand. Peter smiled, resting his forehead against Val's, his finger stroking the uninjured side of Val's face. 

***

Peter recovered quicker than anticipated. He was able to go home after two days in the hospital, and his voice was returning to normal. Peter had minor burns, but they were also healing nicely, and overall he'd been very lucky once they had reduced the inflammation of his lungs, and after the hyperbaric chamber restored his oxygen levels.

“I think your broken arm is going to take longer to heal,” Peter murmured, slipping his arms around Val’s waist as Val cooked dinner. “How did that happen again?” he mused.

“If you don’t want me to lie to you, stop asking,” Val reminded him, “I think you should milk this for all it’s worth, why do you want to go back already?”

"Umm," Peter moaned his teeth making a trail down Val's jaw to his neck “I’d like to get back to the cases we have coming in,” Peter finished. 

“Backstrom misses you,” Val said, flipping the burgers and adding some slices of cheese. 

Peter laughed, ““Nicole sent me the voodoo doll he put at my chair. He told the team it was more productive and less annoying than I am.”

“He really does like you, maybe because you got me out of his barge,” Val teased.

“I think, that is actually one of the reasons he's so perturbed with me,” Peter said. 

“I suppose he’s a little lonely, but without me there, I heard there’s been a blond stopping by,” Val hinted.

“Amy?”

“I can’t say,” Val said, rolling his eyes. 

“I thought he was in a slightly better mood these days.” 

“Going to AA has really helped too.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t backslide when the case against Blue fell through.” 

“You and me both. Blue called both of us, invited us down, wanted to talk.”

“When?” Peter asked.

“A few weeks ago, we blocked him. It was satisfying,” Val said, transferring the vegan burgers to the plate. 

“Let me get those,” Peter offered, using both of his good hands to gather up the plates. Val trailed behind him, holding a bottle of wine and tucked two glasses into his sling.

“You start back tomorrow?” Val asked, his fork shifting through his salad. 

“I have to have a brief physical and an officer involved shooting interview, then I’m back.”

“Officer involved shooting,” Val repeated, it hadn’t come up during Peter’s recovery.

“Yes, there were some suspects on premises,” Peter looked uncomfortable.

“I know it was Adrik, but you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, it’s not like I tell you everything either,” and Val held up his broken hand for emphasis, and then went back to his food. 

“Backstrom?” Peter asked.

“Yes, I have a constant spy who tells me everything he thinks will upset you,” Valentine smirked. 

“I need one of those,” Peter murmured.

“You are that someone, except Backstorm pumps you for information about me, you have to figure out how to turn it around on him.” 

“Backstrom never asks me anything about you,” Peter said. Val laughed.

“Of course he doesn’t directly, he just gets you to talk about us, or me,” Val said from under his lashes. Peter thought back, and often he did talk about Valentine. Backstorm would make some wild accusation or accuse Peter of being off his game because he was up all night with Valentine, which would lead Peter into explaining what they were actually doing and Backstrom accusing him of lying. 

“I see,” said Peter recalling several conversations with Backstrom. Peter made a mental note to maneuver around the Lieutenant next time.

“He’s sly, and he does miss me,” Val said pursing his lips slightly.

“About Adrik,” Peter said, watching Valentine, "I just wanted you to know," Peter explained. “They found him dead, not from the gunshot wound. The complications from that were killing him because it was left untreated, but someone had slit his throat.” Peter paused for several long moments as Valentine watched him, there was no expression on his face. "I'm not sure,' Peter said, swallowing hard. "I'm not sure if I had to shoot him." 

"You're a good man," Val said, "If you shot him, you had to," Val said firmly. "He wasn't even really that bad to me, but there were others that he and Natasha really hurt," Valentine said, not quite sure how he felt. “No one is going to miss him except his psycho wife. You saved a lot of people he would have fucked with.” 

"I think I had to," Peter said, rubbing his head back and forth. "I'm just not sure, I definitely was angry at what he had done," Peter said, he closed his eyes and he could picture the white mark on Val’s back that Adrik had caused. "how he hurt you." Val watched from half lidded lashes, clearly uncomfortable with nearing the topic of his abuse.

"I didn't even know he had died until today. Adrik and Natasha had escaped in their car, I saw a trail of blood, so I knew I hit him. It looks like they tried to save him, if she had taken him to a hospital he may not have died," Peter said closing his eyes. "He lasted a week, but then someone cut his throat." 

"Natasha and Adrik certainly pissed off a lot of people, if someone found him mostly defenseless they might have ended it," Val guessed.

"Yeah, he was suffering from the gunshot wound I have to wait for a coroner's report, but I'm pretty sure that was killing him until someone finished him off." Val shrugged dismissively. 

"Natasha was actually the cruel one. Adrik loved her, and he did whatever she wanted. I think he enjoyed it too, but he worshipped the ground she walked on. She was an unstable nut job though. One minute flirting, then the minute lashing out. The world would be better off without both of them.”

They sat at the table, finishing Val’s burgers. “You ever think about becoming a chef?” Peter asked, changing the subject.

Val rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“You’re really good,” Peter asked. 

“This is only the 30th non-criminal career you’ve suggested I’d be good at,” Val said arching his eyebrows, he mimicked Peter’s voice poorly, “you ever think about becoming an artist, a decorator, a business manager,” Val trailed off as Peter started to laugh.

“I’m pretty obvious?” Peter asked. Val shook his head and batted his lashed. “You can’t blame me for wanting you to be in a safer line of work. 

Val’s eyes light up with delight and he smirked hard, “And how did you get hurt again? Someone tried to blow up a bunch of cops?” Val pointed out.

“I wasn’t suggesting you become a cop,” Peter defended. “What about lawyer, you’re quick, smart.” 

“Yes, and I can read, I’ve read all of the pamphlets for the dozens of different legitimate careers you have strategically left all over the apartment.” 

“No interest?” Peter asked.

“Of course.” 

“Is it the college thing? What happened with the dean?”

Val sighed, “You want to ruin my good meal huh?” Peter smiled and shook his head. “It’s expensive, time consuming, and I don’t know,” Val said, staring intently at his food. 

“I’ll take care of all the bills and tuition,” Peter said.

“That makes me,” Val pursed his lips and seemed to think, “uncomfortable.” 

“Why?” 

“I can’t explain it. It’s too big you know? Too big of a gift,” Val explained lamely, sipping his wine.

“Knowing that you’d be doing something you’re great at, would be a huge return gift for me. We can draw up loan documents if you want?” Peter offered with a shrug of his own.

Val shifted, and then grabbed his arm with a slight grunt. 

“Are you okay?” Peter said, coming around the table and dropping to his knees.

“It just aches sometimes,” Val waved him off. Peter felt along the arm, gently. 

“I wish you would tell me what happened,” Peter said softly, watching Val out of the corner of his eye, his finger drifting to Val's jaw, stroking the stubble there. “Or that I had an informant.”

“Trust me that it’s better if I don’t, I’m fine, it was stupid.” 

Peter looked up at Val, a hand going to his cheek, his thumb tracing the faint scratch marks still on his face. “I know you believe what you are telling me, which makes me believe it must be bad, and it might involve me.” Val kissed him.

“This was not your fault.” Hmm, was all Peter responded with as his fingers continued to explore.

“What would it take, for you to let me help you get to school?” Peter changed subjects, his hands dropping to Val's legs, caressing his knees. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Valentine offered, finishing the last of his meal. “”What would it take for me to get you out of that shirt?” Val volleyed back, arching his eyebrow in a seductive fashion, his gaze smoldering. Peter whipped off his shirt and Val was there kissing him, his tongue exploring one hand going behind Peter's head. Peter put his arms around Val's waist, pulling him up from the chair and they made their way towards the bedroom.

***

Backstrom, Gravely, Moto, Almond, Paquet and Niedermayer were in Backstrom’s office, going over a case file. It was good to be back in the swing of things, and cases had been slow coming since the incident with Val and the newspaper story about Niedermayer getting a blowjob from a prostitute. However, Peter's heroics at the warehouse seemed to have turned the tide on the SCU getting some cases again. Peter looked out the glass window and saw Valentine talking to an officer in uniform. He watched their body language, and it looked a little tense. 

“Moto, do you know that cop?” Peter asked, nudging Moto and pointing out the window.

“Are you jealous?” Backstrom asked, “if you’re done spying on your boyfriend, can we work on our case?” Peter and Moto ducked back down and started going over files.

“That’s Bennett, he works patrol. He’s a nice guy,” Moto shrugged. Peter glanced up again and Bennett had an arm on Val’s good arm, and Val was backing up. Peter was on his feet and through the door before he realized what he was doing. He closed the distance and the conversation died at his approach. Bennett dropped his arm, and Val moved so he would be between Bennett and Peter. 

“It was great to see you again Valentine, nice to see you on this side of the law,” Bennett said, "making smart choices." Val seemed a little shaken, ashen, and Peter felt his blood boil. 

“Yeah,” Val said without making eye contact. Bennett spun on his heel and went towards the elevators. 

“What was that about?” Peter asked. Val didn’t look at him, and studied something on the desk in front of him.

“I knew him before when I used to work, ‘downtown’,” Val added emphasis, his held tiling to the side, his eyes wide with meaning. “It’s fine, really.”

Peter a little bit hated he could tell when Val was lying. He didn’t mind letting Val have his secrets, but he did not like feeling like someone was harassing Val either. “I don’t mind intervening if there is a problem,” Peter offered, watching the elevator doors close.

“And if you can help with something, I will ask,” Val said, pasting a smile on his face. 


	2. Family Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're family can't be an amazing example of love, forgiveness, and support, at least they can be terrible warning...
> 
> Rattlesnakes give a warning sound, but sometimes when you hear it, it is too late. Blue isn't one to let anyone get the upper hand without some form of retribution. Backstrom is a sensitive soul, and to protect himself, he built a wall against Blue's attacks, but that wall only protected him, he didn't imagine anyone else would be on the other side of it.

Peter felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something wasn’t right, Backstrom seemed to sense it too. The entire team stilled, and there was the faint sound of commotion, maybe yelling. Backstrom, Paquet, Moto, Gravely, Almond and Niedermayer made their way towards the noise. Outside the chief's office, Valentine was pressed against a wall, and Sheriff Blue Backstorm was placing handcuffs on him, seemingly unconcerned about Val’s broken arm. The entire team bolted for Val, but Peter and Backstrom got there first, Blue retreated, and Val turned from his position, handcuffs dangling from his good wrist, as Peter used a key to release the cuff. 

Val was sweating and breathing hard, his face was pale, and pain was radiating off of him. Peter gave him a quick once over, and then stood in front of him. Both Backstroms were yelling, and the deputies from Cooch County were entering the fray as Moto, Almond and Gravely lent their voices. There was a lot of yelling for other side to ‘calm down’, and ‘I have a warrant’, and ‘i’ll show you what you can do with that warrant’ being shouted back and forth as Chief Cervantes rounded the corner. The deputies put their hands on the guns in their holsters, and Backstroms' team did the same thing, and both sides were yelling “easy,” at each other. 

“Enough, everybody,” the Chief yelled raising her hands and stepping between the two masses. “Explain,” the Chief said looking at Blue.

“I have a warrant for Gregory Valentine’s arrest into protective custody,” Blue snapped.

“It’s bullshit, protective custody of what, you’re the only one he needs protecting from,” Everett snapped. The Chief silenced Everett with a sharp look. She held out her hand to Blue and he handed her the warrant.

“Mr. Valentine,” the Chief started, “are you aware of this warrant and this case?” she asked handing him the slip. Peter handed it to Valentine and read over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I mean this is the wine business venture that turned out to be counterfeit,” Val shrugged. 

“Yes ma’am, that is correct. We have reason to believe that Gregory here is a witness in this case, and that the counterfeit wine is a much bigger operation spanning Washington all the way through to California, and directly through Cooch County. I have a warrant to take him into protective custody for his own safety,” Blue explained.

“The hell you are,” Backstrom snapped. 

“I’m not going with you,” Val confirmed.

“That’s why the warrant, I’m not asking you to come with me, Chief,” Blue said, turning to face her, “Tell your men to stand down and turn over my witness.” Val looked at Peter, who once again stood fully in front of Val, with Backstrom and Moto between Blue and Peter.

“You’re not taking him,” Peter finished. 

“If it is a valid warrant,” Backstrom said, “what you do is you contact the local police and have them make the arrest,” Backstrom reminded Chief Cervantes of the Norwood incident. 

“Sheriff, would you and your men step into my office,” Chief Cervantes gestured with her hand, and the three men went in. She spun and faced Valentine, “You are not to leave this station, you are to remain in Backstrom’s office until I come and get you, do you understand?” Val nodded, as did Backstrom and Peter. “It would be very unfortunate if anyone stupidly advised him not to listen to me,” the Chief threatened cocking her head at Backstrom in warning. Backstrom rolled his eyes and held up his hands in defeat.

They made their way to the office, as the Chief went into a meeting with Blue and his team. “Are you okay?” Peter asked, gently examining the arm. Val was cradling it, but clearly trying to minimize the pain he felt. 

“Yeah,” Val shrugged.

“That warrant is bullshit, he’s trying to get back at me,” Everett sneared, pacing in frustration. Several long minutes stretched out, and then the Chief entered, 

“This is not the talking part, this is the listening part, do you understand?” The Chief asked. Everyone nodded. “He has a valid warrant and can take Mr. Valentine out of here in handcuffs. He said they were necessary because he knows of Mr. Valentine shooting at a civilian,” and the Chief rolled her eyes to Valentine, who narrowed his knowing exactly the incident she was referring to with Edward Norwood at Rock Bottom, “and of course Mr. Valentine’s long and colorful criminal history which has a few episodes of violence. Blue says he and his team do not feel safe.” 

"That's bullshit," Everett snapped, Peter, Val and the rest of the team started to interject. 

“Stop!” She snapped holding up her hand. “I don’t like it, but he has a valid warrant. However, he did agree that Backstrom and his team could escort Valentine to Cooch County, and be on his protective detail. Backstorm would have to ride with Blue, and you or one of your team would have to be handcuffed to Mr. Valentine at all times. To be clear your two options are Mr. Valentine handcuffed and alone, or Mr. Valentine handcuffed to one of you, and you get to go with him as some of his security detail. I need you to pick, and I need you to pick now.”

“Detail,” Backstrom and Peter said in unison. 

***

Peter was handcuffed to Valentine and they rode in the back of Blue’s sheriff vehicle. Backstrom was in the front seat and angry. Blue pretended not to notice, and appeared calm and relaxed behind the driver’s seat. Blue’s deputies were leading the caravan. Moto, and Gravely were in a car behind Blue, and for reasons that involved white out, and an old warrant, Almond and Paquet were in another car following Moto and Gravely. Val was holding Peter’s hand tightly, Val appeared relaxed, but Peter could feel the anxiety coming off him. Backstrom and Valentine had the same chaotic energy swirling around them, but it was difficult to read. 

Peter leaned in and kissed Val’s neck, and Val closed his eyes, swallowing hard. 

“If you can’t be a professional back there Pete, I’ll pull over and discharge you from this detail,” Blue said in his even keeled cowboy voice. Peter nodded as Backstorm shot him a warning look in the rearview mirror. Val slid a little further away, but still kept his fingers entwined with Peter’s. 

Blue shook his head, and muttered something under his breath which caused Backstrom to look at him hatefully. “You’re no longer the queerest son I have,” Blue said loudly, starring at Valentine unkindly in the rearview. Whatever response Backstrom was going to make he literally choked containing. His eyes flicked between Blue and Valentine, and they were pained, but Backstrom seemed to realize that whatever he said now would likely get him kicked off the detail. Blue smiled.

As they arrived late evening at Cooch County Jail, Blue escorted Peter and Val out of the vehicle. “He needs to be processed, why don’t you guys find a place to stay,” Blue instructed. 

“I’ll stay with him,” Peter offered.

“He is getting processed alone, and then you can be part of his detail,” Blue stood firm. “If you don’t piss me off, I’ll let him walk into the building without being handcuffed.” Peter looked at Val who nodded slightly. 

“Sheriff Backstrom,” Peter said, “We are here to fully cooperate and do our job. We want to help.”

"Oh, I know how helpful you are, Pete. Didn’t you sit outside all night guarding a body so my son could accuse me of murder?” Blue asked. Peter fell silent. Backstrom had nervous pent of energy, but for once seemed to be containing himself. 

“Wait here Mr. Niedermayer,” Blue instructed, "Deputy Wilkes will wait with you and bring you in when it’s time."

“Dad,” Backstrom said. Blue spun fast on his heel.

“Yes Son?” he said the mocking tone not hidden well.

“This is between me and you.”

"I’m a professional son, you don’t think I’d take it out on your spunky little gay fella do you?” Blue asked, and Peter understood why Blue was called a rattlesnake. Backstrom was barely containing his rage, but he kept looking at Valentine and instinctively knew that any transgressions would be played out against him. 

“Take him in,” Blue said to the other Deputy. Blue started to walk away. “We can work together on this, can’t we? Our past conflict doesn’t need to get in the way, right?” Blue asked, and he didn’t turn around.

All of Backstrom’s threatening, vulgar responses were written across his face, so everyone was surprised when he answered through gritted teeth, “yes.” Blue nodded, and kept walking. 

“See you in an hour,” Blue said and followed the deputy inside. Deputy Wilkes stayed with the team, until they wandered away and began looking for accomodations. 

“Do you think we are really here for Valentine? Or is Blue after you?” Moto asked. Backstrom crossed his arms, and Peter recognized the chaotic energy. Both Valentine and Backstrom were the polar opposite of Blue, they wore their anxiety on the outside. Backstorm made poor choices with prostitutes and booze, and Valentine leapt into dangerous situations that distracted him from his problems. Blue on the other hand was difficult to read. Although Peter suspected Blue was pretty pissed. 

“This is a set up,” Backstrom huffed. “He’s trying to get back at me, and he knows he has very few inroads.” Backstrom looked back warily over his shoulder. 

“I’ve contacted some lawyers, and I’m hopeful to get Val released soon,” Peter said.

“Paquet and I have a plan as well, and it should be together within the hour.,” Backstrom promised, still seething.

***

Val followed the deputy inside, the Cooch County jail wasn’t very large. He was scared, but even if he and Blue were not going to be close, he was still his son. Not that it had mattered much to Backstrom’s upbringing. Blue’s booted footfalls sent chills up Valentine’s spine. 

“Let’s go,” Blue said, gesturing for Val to walk to the back, he was lead to the processing area behind a closed door. A man dressed in blue scrubs was waiting. Blue held up a piece of paper. “I have a warrant for a full cavity search.”

“What?” Val asked backing away, but the Deputy behind him shoved him forward. Val instinctively put his back to the wall. 

"I can't have you in my jail with drugs or weapons, I am well aware of your very long and colorful past Mr. Valentine, safety first," Blue offered. “Deputy Raines, please handle the processing then bring him to interrogation,” Blue said, and he passed through another door. Deputy Raines smiled, but it was not pleasant. 

“You can’t do this,” Val said as the doctor approached.

“You have two choices, cooperate, or I will force you, no preference here,” Deputy Raines shrugged.

“Open your mouth, please,” the doctor said. Val complied as the doctor stuck his gloved hand in checking cheeks, tongue, and throat. Val gagged.

“Huh, I was under the impression you didn’t do that,” the Deputy remarked unkindly. Val controlled his breathing and let his mind drift, ‘ _escape if you can, endure if you can’t’_ started playing through his head. 

“I need to remove the cast,” the doctor explained.

“Why?” Val asked.

“It’s a weapon, can’t have it,” Deputy Raines informed him.

“The hell,” Val started.

“Look, do I hold you down or do you cooperate, I don’t really need to know anything else,” Deputy Raines shrugged. Val bit his lip and offered his arm. The doctor sawed through the cast. 

“I need you to remove your clothes,” the doctor said. Val felt his throat constrict and tears sting his eyes, but he turned his back, and started removing his clothes. There wasn’t really much to protest, it was clear the Deputy would follow through on his threat. 

“Hands against the wall,” the Deputy said. Val stood, naked as the doctor approached. 

  


“I need you to squat down and cough,” the doctor said. Val did as he was instructed, humiliation burning through him. “Now I need you to stand and bend slightly, I need to search,” but Val didn’t hear the doctor over the small choked sound that escaped before Val could quelch it. He knew exactly what the doctor wanted to search. He complied, and tried to blank out his mind, he felt the pressure and the probing but tried to drift mentally. It wasn't sexual which was a relief, but there was no doubt Blue was trying to humiliate him, or at least hurt Backstrom. _Just a moment in time._ “

“Turn around,” Val composed himself and with the most defiant 'fuck you' look he could muster as he turned. The doctor briefly patted him down. “He’s clear,” the doctor said removing his gloves, and backing away. 

“Shower,” Deputy Raines pointed towards the next room over. Val tried to gather his clothes, “leave them,” Raines barked. Val dropped them and walked to the shower room. “Clean up, we don’t keep dirty whores,” Raines muttered, standing in the doorway, watching as Val showered. Val had his fair share of voyeurs, and Raines couldn't be less interested except in making Val uncomfortable. Val soaped up, trying to be ginger with his arm that no longer had support. 

Val was given a yellow jumpsuit to wear and escorted to the interrogation room. 

“You know our jumpsuits are pink, Sheriff Backstrom ordered this yellow one for you, didn’t want you to get too comfy,” Raines joked. Val didn’t say anything, just followed. Raines sat him at the table and gestured to the cuffs in the center. “Hands.” Val placed his hands on the table, and Raines cuffed them. It wasn’t so bad having cuffs in the front with his broken arm, especially with a table to support the weight. Raines left and Val was alone for a moment. He couldn't imagine what Blue had in mind, and he tried not to think about it. He did have a small hope in his chest that perhaps being his son might mean Blue didn't intend too much harm-it was clear he meant some harm.

Val heard Blue’s boots coming down the hallway. He vaguely wondered if these were sounds from Backstrom's childhood, and if those sounds still haunted Backstrom. Blue pushed open the door and sat across from Valentine. He stared for a long time. 

“You don’t look like me.”

“Which makes me believe there is a just God,” Val blurted out smirking before his brain had time to interject. Blue lurched across the table, and Val flinched, hurting his arm in the process. But Blue sat down and smiled without touching him. 

“You’re a pussy like Backstrom,” Blue remarked. Val felt his blood boil, he wanted to defend Backstrom, somehow from this monster. 

“It’s not hard to frighten people when you have them restrained, I wonder if you would flinch under the same conditions?” Val snarked back. “It’s not cowardice when you know someone means to hurt you, it’s good common sense to try to avoid the blow.” 

“I doubt you’ve avoided many blows, at least according to your record,” Blue fired back with narrowed eyes.

“What do you want?” Val asked, “I’m assuming since we are related to the details of my file are not what caught your interest,” Val asked wide eyed and mocking. Val didn’t believe for a moment that playing nice would buy him any goodwill. It hadn’t worked for Backstrom, and Val was determined to hurt Blue at least a little.

“I want to work out a deal, that lets you out of here,” Blue offered.

“You’ve been such a good host with the fully body cavity search, it’s hard to imagine wanting to leave,” Val quipped, rolling his eyes.

“I thought you’d enjoy that,” Blue said evenly, disgust underlying his words.

“What is wrong with you? How can you treat your children this way, how can you treat anybody this way?” Val asked.

Blue smacked the table hard. “I protect people. It’s people like you and my son who feed off of others, parasites, degenerates,” Blue cut off abruptly, and sat back in his chair. “Backstrom took Norwood from Indian land. How do you feel about testifying?” 

“It’s as likely as you being a good father,” Val offered tilting his head, his eyes narrowed in contempt. “I want to talk to a lawyer.” 

“I want to be treated with the respect I deserve,” Blue snapped.

“Maybe you are,” Val fired back. Blue was out of his chair fast. Blue grabbed Val by the hair and smashed him face down into the metal table. Val felt blood run down his nose as Blue waltzed back to his side of the table. “I want to have a civilized conversation, so I’m going to need you to adjust your tone,” Blue said, “do you understand me?” 

Val swallowed hard, “go to hell,” Val offered. Blue got up again and his fist was pulled back. Val braced himself, as copper ran down the back of his throat. He knew he should at least try to avoid the blow but he refused to give Blue the satisfaction. Blue sat back down and stared angrily at Valentine. Valentine could imagine Blue tormenting Backstorm his entire childhood, and before he could stop the stupid thought from playing out, Val kicked Blue’s chair under the table, with both feet, causing it to fall backwards. Blue’s eyes bulged as he scrambled to his feet. 

“You little cocksucker,” Blue said harshly, and he brought his fist down on Val’s broken arm. There was no way to contain the yelp, or the tears stinging his eyes. “Who’s a tough guy now?” Blue grabbed Val’s arm and started to squeeze, Val tried to contain the pain, but he cried out. Blue pressed Val’s face into the metal table as he wrenched his broken arm. “Apologize,” he demanded, Val let out a shaky breath, and pressed his teeth firmly together. Blue pulled his head back and a fist landed on Val’s upper cheek and temple. He saw stars, but Blue couldn’t kill him, the whole team was outside, and Val would never apologize, fuck that guy. 

“I’ll kill you,” Blue seethed as if he could read Valentine’s mind. But Deputy Raines was there, pulling him back. 

“Sir, sir,” Raines was saying. 

"I'd like to continue this chat, but I have important business. You'll wait here for me?" Blue asked, kicking Valentine’s chair back so he couldn’t sit in it. His only option was to stand or be on his knees. “That should be a comfortable and familiar position,” Blue snapped, and he stormed from the room, Raines close on his heels. Raines shut off the light as he left the interrogation room. Val sat in the dark, feeling the blood run down his face, he tried to wipe at it. He knelt for a long time, and then put his head down on the desk, his arms stretched out in front of him, the broken one aching, but there was little that could be done to ease it. 

Sometime later, Deputy Raines flicked on the light, and Val blinked at the sudden brightness. He walked to the table and uncuffed Val's hands, he grabbed Val's bicep lifting him from the chair, "let's go sweetheart," he said, and Val winced. He was fairly certain the deputy had grabbed his broken arm on purpose, and Val used his good arm to support it. Deputy Raines walked him to the restroom, and pushed him towards the sink, he crossed his arms leaning back against the wall. 

"Your protective detail is here, and I'm pretty sure they'll be concerned about your fall," the Deputy said gesturing to Val's face. Val turned on the water and washed the dried blood from his face, he couldn't really do anything about the swelling, or bruising that appeared on his nose, cheek, and temple.

"Got it," Val said with an eye roll. 

"If your detail can't contain themselves, they will be dismissed," Raines threatened in a casual tone. He walked towards Val, holding the sling. "We consider this dangerous, you could hang yourself," Raines said.

"Yeah, right," Val said sarcastically, smirking. 

"We will let you have it with your detail if they will assume the risk," Raines offered. He reached for Val's broken arm, but Val instinctively evaded his touch, Raines grabbed his forearm roughly, and squeezed, Val gritted his teeth, but he went to one knee as Raines pushed him backwards.

"Are you proposing to me queer?"Raines mocked him. He shoved Val backwards, it wasn't hard but Val's head bounced into the stall wall behind him. Raines threw the sling down at him. "If you're going to take all night getting ready, I'll tell them you aren't up for company, come on I have a family to get home to," Raines complained standing back against the wall. 

Val quickly strapped the sling, and he did try to look presentable, not because of the threats, but not not because of them either. He knew that Peter and Backstrom would do something stupid if they thought he was hurt. He suspected Blue was provoking them on purpose so he could dismiss them. Val's heart did a quick flutter at the thought of seeing Peter. 

Raines grabbed his good arm this time, and started to escort him, he paused at the door, pressing Val into the wall and leaning in close. "I hope," he said softly, "that you are smarter than you look. You're in Cooch County, and Blue and I are Gods here," Raines said. Val pressed his lips together, but he couldn't entirely suppress the smile. "You laughing at me, Queer?" Raines asked using his hand to press Val harder against the wall.

"I just wasn't given the impression my father shared anything, much less his Godhood," Val explained.

"Well I wasn't given the impression Blue had a daughter either, but here was are," Raines snapped. He jerked open the door and shoved Val forward, coming behind him and grabbing his good arm. As they went into the main jail area, Val saw Peter standing at a desk, his face light up when he saw Valentine. Val started to go forward, but the Deputy slowed him, as Peter came forward outstretched. 

"Try to conduct yourself like a professional, this isn't a Goddamn brothel," Raines said, and Peter dropped his arms. As he approached Valentine, Val could see him cataloging injuries and flicking a hateful gaze at Raines. Raines smiled back as if daring Peter to do something. 

Peter’s fists clenched and unclenched, but he stood by Val’s side, flicking his gave between the deputy and Val. Peter grated at having to reign himself in, but as long as Valentine was at risk, he would try not to piss off the locals. Raines let Peter lead him away, but he stepped in front of them, and opened a cell, gesturing.

"Why would he be kept in a cell?" Peter asked, "I'm here."

"It's for his safety," Raines said. 

"This is absurd," Peter started. 

"If you are uncomfortable with your assignment, you can certainly withdraw and I will cancel my evening plans to stay here with Mr. Valentine," Raines offered, his eyes narrowing.

"No, of course not," Peter said, and he followed Valentine into the cell. There were two cots, but Val and Peter sat on one together. Raines went to a desk, and propped his feet up watching them. 

"Are you okay?" Peter whispered, turning so his lips were close to Val's ear. His hand brushing just below Val's eye were it was bruising and swollen. 

"Yeah, slipped," Val said loudly for Raines benefit. Raines smiled and gave him a thumbs up behind Peter’s back. Val felt Peter tense beside him, and Val put his good arm on Peter's leg, and closed his eyes. "Don't okay," Val whispered. Peter nodded slightly, his hand drifting to Val's. He held and squeezed comfortingly. 

"We're trying to get you out of here," Peter offered, a pained look on his face as he studied Val. "Where's your cast?" He asked noticing Val's bare arm in the sling. 

"It was a weapon," Val said softly, shrugging. 

"I hope they said that because you punched that guy in the face," Peter muttered. Val smiled, his head resting on Peter's shoulder. 

"I wish," Val said. 

"Hey, homos," Raines called, "how about a little space. If you don't stop molesting our witness, you're out of here," Raines threatened. Val felt Peter tense, muscles rippling under the surface. Val lifted his head and put a steadying hand on Peter's. 

"It's okay," Val mouthed. They sat silently for a long time, Raines watched them for awhile and then started doing paperwork, giving them glances briefly. 

"You should rest," Peter said, a hand gingerly stroking his back.

"You should rest," Valentine quipped back. Peter helped him lay down and then lay beside him, his back to the Deputy. 

"Hey," Raines objected.

"What?" Peter snapped, "I'm protecting your witness, what if someone starts shooting?" Peter argued, staring at Valentine, as Val pressed his lips together, but a small smile caused the corners to turn up. 

"Fine, it's closing time anyway," Raines said, he clicked off the lights and the room plunged into darkness. "You fags enjoy yourselves," Raines said, disappearing through the door, a loud clicking sound indicating he had locked the door. 

Val let out a long breath. "I want to shoot that guy," Peter said looking over his shoulder. Val laughed.

"Well don't do it in Cooch County, he won't die, he's a God here," Val offered, his hand drifting up to Peter's face. "I'm so glad you're here." 

"Yeah," Peter said, his mouth finding Valentine's, pressing softly, and then letting his tongue delve deeper, tasting and reassuring himself. "What happened to your face?" Peter asked softly pulling back. Val shrugged. 

"At least I didn't get pistol whipped," Val joked, but Peter flinched. "I didn't," Val said more seriously. 

"Are you okay?" Peter asked painfully, his hand cupping Val's face, stroking his chin. 

"Yeah, Blue's an asshole," Val explained. Peter kissed him again, needing to be close, needing to do something, anything to alleviate the tension. 

The door burst open, and Blue was walking in trailed behind by a tall blond woman in a pencil skirt, glasses perched on her face. "I demand you release my client at once," she said shrilly, waving a piece of paper. "This is a warrant from a Federal Judge, which trumps your local judge order, and remaindering him to Detective Gravely for protective custody." 

“Remanding,” Peter whispered to Val, wincing at her mistake. 

Blue was waltzing towards the cell, keys out. "Take him then," Blue snapped, red faced and irritated. 

"Yeah, you better," she said, putting a hand on her hip. Val and Peter exchanged looks. 

"Pete, Gregory," Blue said, stepping aside. As they walked past, Blue grabbed Val's arm, and shot him a look, but Peter stepped between them quickly, and gave Blue his own withering glare. He put his arm around Valentine and led him out behind the lawyer.

"Yeah, you better not mess with us," the lawyer said, smirking, her hips swaying. "And I need my client's shit," she demanded. Blue turned over Val’s items, as Peter led Val outside into the night, the team waiting for him. The lawyer trailed behind them, and handed Val's stuff to Backstrom.

"You owe me two hundred dollars," she said holding out her hand. 

"I hired you," Peter offered. 

"I don't care who gives me my damn money," she said flipping her hair. 

"They have very different lawyers here," Peter said, getting his wallet.

"She's a prostitute," Val said smiling, his hand going to his forehead, as he looked at Backstrom smiling. "This Paquet's warrant?" Val asked. Backstrom smirked, and gave the lady an extra fifty bucks after Peter handed over the cash she asked for.

"I'll see you later," Backstrom said, as she leaned in to kiss him.

"Yes, you will," she said, she turned back to Peter, “I also need gas money,” she said pursing her lips and holding out her hand again. Peter gave her another hundred dollars, he would have given a lot more to get Valentine released. She waltzed away, climbing into an older late 80's model car. Val laughed, and Backstrom hustled them to the car. 

"Let's get the hell out of Cooch before Blue figures it out. I'm surprised he fell for it," Backstrom said. Gravely, Paquet and Almond got into one vehicle, and Moto drove with Backstrom in the front seat, and Peter and Valentine climbed into the back. Peter held Val, intermittent kisses, and murmurs of ‘I’m so sorry’. Val remained still, and tense, his face buried against Peter, but Peter felt wetness on his neck, and the occasional tremor. It was clear Val was trying to contain himself. Peter did what he could to shield him from Backstrom and Moto’s eyes, he just looked like he was perhaps resting on Peter’s shoulder from the outside. Peter wanted to interrogate, wanted to find out what happened, wanted to go back and dropkick Blue in the face. 

Peter’s imagination was running wild, and the two hours they were seperated could have contained many horrors, Peter hoped he was wrong. It was killing him not to know. Backstom appeared anxious as well and when he wasn’t watching them in the rearview mirror, he was turned around in the seat, trying to make eye contact with Peter. 

After thirty minutes, Backstrom clearly couldn’t contain himself any longer. “He’s an asshole, I’m sorry,” Backstrom apologized, “did he hurt you?” Val turned his head, and Peter assumed to wipe tears, but Val melted into the shadows as he faced Backstrom. 

“No, he’s just an asshole like you said and scary. A lot of bark and not a lot of bite.”

Peter who could make out Val’s face at this distance, was already stroking his cheek and narrowing his eyes, as he studied Val’s nose. A thumb lightly brushed it. Peter licked his lips and shook his head, and Val could tell it was taking all of his energy not to investigate. 

“Where’s your cast?” Backstrom asked.

“It was a weapon,” Val said with a lopsided smile. Peter started feeling the arm and the bones, and Val winced. There was a question in Peter’s eyes, but he seemed to read this wasn’t the time or place. Val leaned in again, and Peter kissed him. Val further tucked himself into Peter’s arms, “so sleepy,” he feigned. Peter knew he was lying and trying to get out of conversation, judging by Backstrom’s face he knew too, but Moto was happily oblivious. 

“Do you want to get a hotel when we get out of Cooch County?” Moto offered.

“No,” Val faked a yawn, “I want to get home.” Peter tried not to respond. Val didn’t say he wanted to go to Peter’s place, or the apartment, he said ‘home’. Peter felt warmth flood his chest, and he tried not to get too excited. Val had barely gotten used to keeping things at Peter’s place, even though he spent every night there as of late. Val who had been so cautious about any labels, or the ‘love’ word. Peter chastised himself for getting sidetracked when Val needed his comfort, not his ego. 

The car ride was long, and despite feigning sleep, Val was wired tight. Peter tried to offer silent comfort without letting on how distraught Val was. Peter marvelled at Val's ability to appear calm, cool and collected, while inward he was clearly suffering. Peter noted it was a blend of Blue and Backstrom, Val could turn on his indifference much easier than Backstrom could. When they pulled up outside of Peter’s place, Backstrom got out of the car, and Val melted into the shadows in a casual way. Backstrom kicked the ground, clearly wanting to offer some comfort, or question his brother, but he stayed silent. 

“Call you tomorrow,” Val half asked, half stated.

“Yeah,” Backstorm responded getting back into the vehicle. Peter took Val’s hand and they made their way upstairs to their apartment. As they got to the bedroom, Val disappeared into the bathroom. Peter got ready for bed and waited patiently. He wanted to pursue Val in the bathroom, make sure he had all the comfort he needed. Peter turned off the lights and the moonlight shone through the window. The room was still covered in a lot of shadow, but there was enough light to see by. Peter sat in bed, and was contemplating knocking, when Val came out. Val climbed into bed, and into Peter’s arms. 

“I,” Val started and stopped, swallowing hard. Peter stroked his head, and arm. “Can you,” Val tried again and fell silent.

“Anything,” Peter whispered. 

“Just hold me,” Val said, his voice breaking on the last part. Peter wrapped his arms tightly around Valentine, careful of his broken arm. Val sobbed then, the effort causing his body to shake. Val wasn’t sure exactly why he couldn’t contain himself, he was always able to contain himself. Peter was so warm, so loving. It didn’t make sense to Val. So many people despised him and for no reason Val could identify Peter was madly in love with him. Val sucked in a long breath and tried to quell the emotions. Peter held him for a long time, still kissing, and gently stroking. 

Val relaxed little by little, still keeping one arm around Peter. His head was pressed against Peter’s chest, and he could hear his heartbeat, calm, steady. Val looked up at Peter and pulled back, propped up on one arm, the broken one resting in his lap. Val licked his lips, looked down, looked at Peter again. “I,” Val started but went silent. Val sighed in frustration and Peter watched, letting him have his space. “I uh,” Val got further before falling silent, another deep breath. Val looked Peter in the eyes intensely, “Je t’aime.” 

Peter froze, it was surreal hearing it, and he almost wondered if he misunderstood. Val’s pronunciation was flawless, but Peter still felt uncertain. He didn’t want to react too big and scare Val off, nor did he want to go to small and have Val feel rejected. Peter leaned in, cupping Val’s face and whispered against his lips, “Je t’aime,” before kissing him. Val kissed back hungrily. Val started to lift his broken arm, but winced, and came forward with his other hand instead. 

Hands began exploring bodies, slow, sensual, rediscovering as if suddenly new. They loved each other, they had both said it, out loud. Peter’s heart did another crazy skip pattern, elation exploded in his chest, and he wanted to have this moment as long as it would last. 

Val’s mouth was devouring his, and Peter was melting into. _Val loved him._ Hands were removing his clothes, and Val bit Peter’s lip, suckling lightly, Peter’s hands went to Val’s neck, stroking, pressing him closer. He could feel Valentine’s erection against his, and Val maneuvered until they were skin to skin. “Did you mean it?” Peter asked, doubt making him feel like maybe it was a dream. 

“Je t’aime,” Val whispered huskily, his mouth trailing along Peter’s jaw, neck, chest, he pressed Peter back into the bed, and his mouth found his arousal, his tongue licking, tasting, sucking, Peter moaned. His hands brushing Val’s hair, his breathing coming in shallow gasps. He pushed Valentine, onto his back, climbing on top of him, tasting himself on Valentine’s lips, Val was stroking him, adding lube, and then guiding Peter until he was thrusting inside of him, Peter felt himself enveloped in Valentine, and an additional emotional depth, Val loved him, he’d said it. Peter had been sure before, but hearing it made him feel lighter. 

“I love you, Je’ taime, S’agapo, Ti Amo,” Peter whispered, thrusting deeply, Val bucking beneath him, groaning with pleasure, until his mouth found Peter’s silencing him, his tongue sucking pleasure from Peter’s mouth, Peter opened his eyes as Val tensed, and then orgasmed beneath him, his face flushing red, twisting in the agony of pleasure and pain, his eyes rolling, moaning his completion, Peter felt the spasming around him, and he fell over the edge, pleasure rippling through his body, bliss spreading to each limb, he moaned his own pleasure, letting his mouth fall on Valentine’s, kissing, tasting, drowning. 

***

Val sat on the couch next to Peter, and let his head fall backward into Peter’s lap. He put his newly recasted hand on his own stomach and tucked his good hand behind Peter’s back. Peter immediately started stroking hair, and his other hand lightly stroked and petted. Val sighed with contentment. “I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, are you suddenly heterosexual?” Peter teased, noting Val's tone was ominous, but Val seemed relaxed, it didn’t feel like a break up chat. Val smiled. 

“No worse,” Val grinned. Peter laughed lightly. “Okay, listen I don’t want you to get all excited.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded, getting a little excited and squashing the feeling down.

Val swallowed and then he did look uncomfortable. “I signed up for classes at the community college,” Val said, as if he’d just volunteered to staple his hands together. “I’m doing legal studies.” So many emotions flooded Peter, he wanted to leap with joy, but he scolded himself to contain it. Val opened one eye to look at him. 

“Legal studies,” Peter repeated trying to appear unaffected. 

“Yeah,” Val sighed, picking at invisible lint on his shirt. “I want to be able to defend other people, my people.”

“I think that’s amazing.”

“I’m applying for scholarships, and student loans,” Val said.

“Okay,” Peter agreed. He’d already offered to pay and Val had turned it down. Peter didn’t want to do anything to sour this moment, or worse cause Val to change his mind.

Val closed his eyes. “I think,” Val started, swallowing hard. “I think that I’ve said something out loud I didn’t really believe, and I do now, believe it, but the reason I didn't before is because all the evidence pointed to a different answer.” Peter made a face, trying to string that explanation together. 

“While I was on the street, I knew there were different rules. I was breaking the law, so people who broke the law hurting me, or exploiting me, or in exchange for not arresting me, made everything my responsibility. If I got raped, I was out prostituting anyway and it’s a possibility. You accept that the world sees you as less than. You exploit the world back as much as possible and don’t trust people.” Val again squeaked open an eye, and looked at Peter who nodded thoughtfully. 

“I know you and Backstrom and other people, people who haven’t been hustlers, would say that what happened isn’t okay. But I don’t think any of you realize the depth of what happens to us. People know right away they have the upper hand, we are never going to be believed, everyone thinks sexual assault, rape, exploitation is consensual since we do it for money, and they know we will never go to the cops, and even if we do, nothing will happen.”

“And I know I’m treated differently when I’m with any of you. It doesn’t stop people from whispering things to me, or doing whatever they want if I’m alone. It’s humiliating, asking for help, and being told that you’re basically asking for it. To be told to your face that you have no value, or rights, and no one is concerned about you, because you would sell your body.” Peter winced slightly, but tried to maintain his calm. 

“If you’re late on your rent here, you’ll pay a fee, or get an eviction notice. When we are late with rent, landlords are just as likely to threaten to tell the police about us, or demand sexual favors, and still collect a late fee, and the rent,” Val explained sardonically. “One night it was raining, and I had a cold already. I was feeling sick and feverish, so I tried to shell out some money for a hotel, just to rest, somewhere peaceful, where I knew I could sleep for the night. Several hotels took one look at me and declined because they didn’t want prostitutes in their hotels. I slept under an overhang for a little while and woke up to someone trying to steal my money. I got kicked in the face. A cop saw me at one point, and let me sleep in the back seat of his cruiser in exchange for a blow job. I got a nap, but was back out in the rain. I had money, I just wanted to sleep and there was nothing.”

“And it’s not behind me, it’s not a phase, the choices I made then, I think will be obstacles forever. The people who asked for the sex, nothing matters for them, but the person who gave it in exchange for money," Val shook his head frustrated. "Do you know your value as a person?” Val asked, and his eyes were turning red, and small tears were forming and sliding from the corners. 

“Life is invaluable,” Peter said, a hand brushing Val's face. 

“Yours is. Mine has been assigned value on numerous occasions, $25.00, $50.00. When that guy broke my arm,” Val trailed off for a moment with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut at his mistake.

“You mean you didn’t slip and fall in the bathroom?” Peter asked, clearly never have believed that story, but his concern not diminished at all. 

“When you were hurt, I fell asleep in the lobby. When I woke, the team was sleeping, and I just went to the bathroom,” Val let out a breath. He opened his eyes to look at Peter then. “I didn’t even think about not going alone, I was worried and I was with the team. I was washing my hands and face and a former client saw me. He offered me money and I turned him down, said I didn’t do that anymore,” Val licked his lips and winced a little. “He got so angry, accused me of moving up to a Lieutenant and feeling like I was too good for anyone of lower rank.” Peter’s blood boiled, a fellow officer had done this? Peter wanted a name so badly, but he didn’t want to interrupt Val. “I said no, and he hit me, I tried to fight back but he had started to arrest me.” Val’s eyes fluttered shut at that point, and he shuddered Peter could tell he was relieving the moment in his mind. Val swallowed hard. 

“He held my arm behind my back and smashed me into the wall. I should have just done it. It’s not a big deal, I’ve done it lots of times. I just, we made a commitment," Val said shrugging, "Not that I’m a big fan of monogamy, but I know you are. I really wanted to keep that, I know it’s important to you," Val sucked in a breath, "I also, have reached a point where I -stupidly- believe I have the right to say no,” Val’s breath became shallow, and he shuddered. 

“I couldn’t believe this was happening, and he knew, he **_knew_** he could do it. That the team wasn’t far away, made no difference. He didn’t mean to break my arm, I don’t think he expected me to fight back. He just said he was sorry, told me to keep my mouth shut and threw fifty dollars on the dirty bathroom floor for me. Didn’t help me, didn’t get help, didn't care if I was okay, I was worthless, no, no,” Val said holding up his hands, “the sum of my pain was $50.00.” Val finished, the sound of tears in his voice, he turned his head into Peter and wrapped an arm around him, and Peter held him as he wished he could do more. 

It was difficult for Peter to imagine being late on rent leading to a sexual assault, he’d never lived under such a threat. Or not being able to go to the bathroom, of not being able to count on his brothers and sisters in blue. “I’m sorry that happened. For the record, rape is not the same as not being faithful. I would never hold that against you.” 

“Except rape doesn’t exist if you sell or have ever sold your body,” Val said, clenching his teeth, his breathing ragged. He looked up at Peter. “We are nothing, I am nothing, and even when I had a public defender, they always wanted me to take a plea deal regardless of the circumstances. I just want to represent people, give them a chance to feel like a person.” Val finished, with a shrug.

“That’s very noble,” Peter said with a kiss. 

“I don’t want to be noble, I just want to fight back. I’ve come far, but I can never get away. People will always refer back to my history. There's an invisible brand on my body that says ‘sex for sale’, and people know it. I doesn't matter what I do, or accomplish, it will always be there," Val paused, steadying his breathing, letting his eyes flick towards Peter, "You’ll also be thrilled to know, I have to give up my day job. I talked to the law school, and if I have a criminal record, much like I do, the bar association may not accept me. But I could still learn the law and help people. I can apply, and there is an appeals process if I'm not successful. I’m a way off from law school, which helps because I need a lot of time between my last bust and my application. I cannot get busted doing anything else though.” 

‘You can have anything you need here, anything I can do,” Peter offered. 

Val smiled, “I know. I do need to do some of this on my own though.” 

“Understood,” Peter nodded. “Val,” Peter said tentatively, and Val looked at him. “I don’t think of your past when I look at you. I love you for who you are, and everything that made you this person. I’m not happy about any of the things that happened to you, and I think you would be just as amazing without the assaults. I just want you to know that you matter to me, a lot. I couldn’t put a price tag on that value, and I do love you.” Val smiled. 

“Dr. Livingston, let me see you in ICU.” Hmm Peter said. “What?” Val asked taken aback a little by Peter’s disapproving tone.

“Nothing, just Dr. Livingston seems to, did he ever?” Peter trailed off.

“No,” Val said quickly. “No, I helped his son, and he’s always been nice to me. Never a client.”

“Good.”

“Anyway,” Val said with an eye roll, “after he fixed my arm, he let me slip into ICU, do you remember?”

“No,”Peter shook his head, “but thank you for doing that.” Peter smiled a little wider.

“I promised to be your stupid boyfriend if you lived.”

“What,” Peter said with surprise, and then laughed “you mean you’ve been my boyfriend for weeks and I didn't know?” 

“Stop it,” Val teased back. Peter leaned in to kiss him, long, slow deep. “HIS BOYFRIEND!” his mind shouted, his hand found the curve of Val’s jaw, and he lifted his head slightly to deepen the kiss. Val rolled up, not breaking their kiss and straddled Peter on the couch. Ummm, he moaned. “I was scared of saying it to you, of what it would mean,” Val said, looking Peter in the eye as he planted little kisses. Peter kept his arms wrapped around Val and stared up at him.

“I’m so, happy doesn’t cover it,” Peter grinned.

“I’m so terrified, I think I’m going to die doesn’t cover it,” Val smirked back, his eyes wide, and the hint of seduction in his eyes. Peter laughed, deeply, his mouth finding Valentine’s kissing him, hoping that Val was mostly kidding about being terrified, hoping he could reassure him physically and verbally that he was safe with his...boyfriend… Peter moaned against Valentine’s mouth. 

“You’re the best boyfriend,” Peter murmured.

“Oh God stop saying it,’ Valentine moaned, letting his head fall back as Peter began devouring all available flesh with his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are good, comments are better. :)


	3. Another Revolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trouble with revenge is everyone loves somebody, even bad people have someone who cares about them. The cycle of violence continues because you cut me and I cut you, until everybody is dead, or until someone gets off the Merry Go Round of Pain.
> 
> When two people are so in love they can't bare to be separated, you should really worry when they are separated. Peter's vengeance has a price tag, and his pain is dealt in the form of collateral damage.

***

“I’m so hungry,” Peter said, pressing Valentine into the wall, his mouth making a trail down Val’s neck, pulling his shirt over his head, finding Val’s stomach and nipping there. Val put his hands on Peter’s head, as Peter undid Valentine’s pants, finding his erection, his mouth and tongue expressing his appreciation, Val moaned low in his throat, pressing his head and back against the wall. Peter was on his knees, one hand around Val’s erection, one hand on his back pulling him forward. Val thrust and groaned under Peter’s talented tongue. He pushed Peter back slightly, dropping to his knees, finding Peter’s mouth, before dropping to his hands and knees as Peter undid his own belt and pants, Val passed back lube and Peter quickly applied it and thrust, his hand on Val’s shoulder, finding a rhythm he knew they both enjoyed, they went over the edge fast, and they both collapsed on the floor, sweat and sex fluids covering them.

“You’re so good,” Peter murmured, his mouth dropping kisses on the back of Val’s neck and shoulder. 

“I know, you’re very lucky to have me,” Val reminded him, his breathing ragged. Peter laughed not at all deterred by his lover’s, no, -his boyfriend’s- arrogance. Peter was still getting used to the label. He tried not to overdue it as it had been a major concession on Valentine’s part to even use the label. Peter couldn’t help feeling elated at the idea. He’d reconciled getting the pieces of Valentine that Valentine allowed him, and he’d already decided they didn’t need to say they loved each other, and they didn’t need a label. What they had was perfect, and Peter felt like after getting passed these hurdles there was nothing left to hurt them. He could face anything with Val’s love and companionship. 

Val appeared with towels, as he found his clothing, slipping on his shirt and pants again. "You said you were hungry," Val teased.

"You said you were hungry," Peter whispered in his ear. Val slapped his hands away.

"I slaved over my app for all of five seconds to have this meal prepared for you," Val said with fake umbridge, "and you skipped to dessert," Val chastised with a sultry gleam in his eyes. 

"How can I not?" Peter asked, falling into a chair and dragging Val with him Val arched his back, grinding down on Peter's lap in slow circles. "I love you," Peter whispered, his hands around Valentine holding him as he continued to grind, his hands resting on Peter's legs. 

“Do you want dinner at all?” Valentine asked, his head against Peter’s shoulder, his eyes looking up seductively. 

“Yes, I really am hungry and I’ve worked myself up into a larger appetite,” Peter confessed, biting Val’s shoulder. Val stood and retrieved the cartons, they settled onto the couch instead of the dining room table. Peter sat at one end of the couch and Val sat at the other, their feet touching, as they curled up to eat, watching each other. Peter felt so relaxed, as he devoured the noodles Val had ordered. 

“How is registration going?” Peter asked, as Val hungrily ate up his rice dish. 

“I tested out of a few more classes. I still have to take 8 electives, because the college won’t give me a diploma unless I establish ‘residency’, but they’re all electives, and they are all legal orientated so it’s not terrible. I could actually start law school in the next year.” Peter smiled and looked away, Valentine hated it when he got too excited about his career. “I’m not going to find my papers on the fridge with smiley faces, am I?” Val asked, giving Peter a warning look. 

“Not many,” Peter grinned back. Val threw a couch cushion at him, which Peter easily deflected. They ate in silence, and Peter started to feel really relaxed. 

“Peter,” Val said, and there was a hint of panic in his voice. “Peter, call Backstrom,” Peter lifted his eyes, and Val was sitting forward, he threw the carton, and he grabbed Peter’s and threw it too.

“What are doing?” Peter laughed, he laid back and everything was hazy, rainbows danced across his vision. Val looked like he had lights coming around him, like an angel.

“Peter!” Valentine was saying, he was reaching for him, shaking him. “Call Backstrom.” Peter started dialing.

"Call Backstrom, tell him we've been drugged," Val gasped out. 

"We like drugs," Peter slurred into the phone, and he laughed, as Backstrom groggily answered. Backstrom started to say something, but Peter couldn't hear, oh because he wasn't holding the phone to his ear, where was it, where did it go? 

"No," Val laughed, “we are drugged, not, like,” but Peter watched a hand came around Valentine, holding something over his mouth, pulling him back. Peter tried to register what he saw, but it didn’t make sense.

"Hey drugs," Peter slurred, and then he felt someone grabbing him from behind, then darkness.

***

Peter woke, an ache in his shoulders, he lifted his head, and felt the rope around his wrists, he opened one eye, and flinched at the light in the room, his hands were suspended above his head, he groaned low.

"Peter," he heard Val whisper, and this time he forced his eyes open, next to him was Valentine, who was twisting closer to him, "Hey," Valentine said. 

"What," Peter asked shaking his head, trying to form the question.

"Shh," Valentine said, "listen, she's fucking crazy, do whatever you have to do to survive, do you hear me?" Val whispered softly. "Peter, I need you to listen to me, she's sadistic and evil, just do whatever you have to to survive, nothing that happens here matters okay it's not real, don't believe anything she says?" Val rushed to explain. Peter heard footsteps, but Val's statements didn't make sense. Except that maybe nothing was real.

"Grigory!" Came a high pitched squeal of delight. Peter looked up and saw Natasha Faydrick walking towards them. Peter tried to move on his knees to alleviate some of the tension in his arms. "No no," Natasha chastised, "don't get up." She crouched down in front of Valentine, and kissed him, Val let his jaw go slack as she kissed obscenely, her tongue rummaging through his mouth, and he watched Peter out of one eye, he looked apologetic. 

"Oh Grigory, what a surprise to see you here. When my boys brought you home, well you can't imagine how nice it was to see you," she said, her hands drifting over Valentine's chest, and neck. "Did you miss me?" She asked, and her hand went under the back of his shirt, her nails stroking his back. "I want to see if the gift we left you is still there," she whispered against his mouth. She lifted his shirt, and gasped, "oh it's beautiful, look at it," and she drug one of her long nails down the thin faded line. "It's fading, but I'll fix it, don't worry," she promised, kissing Val's neck from behind. Val winced, and Peter heard Val's breathing shift. 

"You've distracted me, oh Grigory I owe you an apology," she said with a pouty face, crouching in front of him again, her hand holding his chin. "I hope you know that I adore you!" She said, kissing his cheek. "But," she said and her eyes sliced towards Peter, "your boyfriend did a very bad thing," she accused, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. "I have to hurt someone he loves, you understand don't you?" She said pleadingly, cupping his face. "I didn't know it would be you. I wish I hadn't promised myself already, but I can't back out, I'd never forgive me," she said, biting her own lip. "But you'll forgive me, just remember everything I do, is his fault, I would never hurt you," she said kissing Val on the forehead. She stood and then she slapped Val open palmed, and Val bumped into Peter, Val swallowed hard and took a deep breath and watched her warily. 

"Val," Peter whispered.

"It's okay," Val mouthed, and then went back to watching Natasha. 

"You," Natasha said, and her whole demeanor changed, anger was radiating off of her, she paced in front of them. Val was inching instinctively closer on his knees, but his hands were bound above his head, and what Val thought he might be able to do Peter couldn't guess.

"Oh Pater," Natasha said shaking her head. "You killed him," she snapped and she stalked toward him pulling her hand back. Peter braced himself but she dropped her hand. "Oh no, that's not how this game is played," she said angrily. She smoothed her skirt. "Boys," she said, and three men appeared from the shadows, all of them were at least as tall as Peter, and more muscular, Peter swallowed hard. "I need you to know," Natasha whispered leaning close to Peter. "I have my boys this time. You caught Adrik and I unaware and that wasn't very fair of you," she chastised shaking her finger. "If you do anything to me, if you even look at me threateningly, they will beat him to death in front of you, and it will take hours, they will break every bone in his body, and stomp him to death, he will be awake and conscious the entire time, and I promise you his screams will haunt you the rest of your days," She held up a picture of a very bloody pulpy mess of what was presumably a human being at one time. "Do you understand?" She asked Peter.

"Yes,' he said softly, his eyes flicking to Valentine, his breathing shallow.

"Okay, good, now we can have fun," she said, clapping her hands, as her retinue blended back into the shadows. "Why did you kill him?" She asked looking over her shoulder sharply. 

"I," Peter said, "I didn't mean to." She crossed the room quickly and she slapped Valentine harder this time. 

"I think I was wrong, you don't love him at all, do you?" She asked, "or maybe you and I have more in common than I thought, maybe you like to see him in exquisite pain, the way the human body tenses and contracts, the way a bruise forms into a beautiful pattern of yellows, blues, and purples," she dragged her nails across Valentine's cheek, one of her nails leaving a thin red line, "the way the blood seeps to the surface," she whispered, entranced by the damage she had done. Val flinched, but he didn't cry out, he kept watching Peter out of the corner of his eye. 

"I'm sorry, please don't," Peter asked, trying to get her attention back on him. "I'll do whatever you want." 

"Good, bring Adrik back," she demanded pursing her lips, and crossing her arms, staring at Peter expectantly. 

"I, I uh," Peter said, shaking his head. 

"So not anything," she said low and angry. "Fine, then I can't be responsible for what happens," she shrugged. 

"Uruk," she called, "take him," she said nodding at Valentine. Peter and Val both tensed, Uruk came and cut the ropes holding Val's hands, and he grunted as they fell to his side. His back arched a little at the pain that must be spreading through them. Uruk grabbed his arm and pulled him up and forward. Val hesitated. 

"Wait, wait," he said looking at Natasha. 

"What Grigory," she asked, still huffy. 

"For old times sake, just a kiss," Val said, nodding his head towards Peter, smiling at her brightly. She made pouty lips, and smiled back. 

"Oh Grigory," she said, leaning into him and he put his hand on her hip.

"Please?" Val asked, his voice low and seductive, his mouth very close to hers. 

"I can't tell you no, look how cute you are," she said, throwing her arms around his neck. "But you have to give me the same kiss, it's only fair," she said, her lips pouting. 

"Of course," Val said, and he cupped her cheek and pulled her into a kiss, he pressed into her, and Peter hated watching, but he could read Val, he wasn't into it, this is what it looked like when Val was using people and manipulating them, it looked real, but it wasn't the same looks Peter got. Val broke the kiss, and Natasha beamed. Val stepped lightly and Natasha nodded, Uruk let him go. 

Val dropped in front of Peter, both hands cupping his face, pressing close, his mouth devouring Peter's, he kissed his jaw, and neckline and whispered just barely, "don't forget, whatever it takes, none of it is real," Val caught his eye, his hand falling from Peter's face as he stood. Uruk grabbed him roughly then, but Val didn't resist, he watched Peter over his shoulder and then followed. 

Natasha watched him angrily, but she smiled. "You love him?" She asked, pacing, arching an eyebrow. 

"Yes," Peter responded, a tear forming and falling silently.

"You know you shouldn't fall for a prostitute, Pater, they all lie," she said, watching him, clenching her fists and unclenching them.

"You like Valentine," Peter suggested.

"Oh he's adorable, isn't he?" Natasha said looking over her shoulder, and smiling. "He's so delicious," she said, her hand drifting to her throat. Peter remembered a long ago conversation, Valentine explaining the way people lusted after him, like an object. He could see it in her eyes, she probably thought she liked him, but she only saw Valentine as a means to satisfy her own desires. 

"He didn't do anything, you could let him go," Peter suggested. She rolled her eyes. 

"I regret that Valentine is the one you care about, oh the things I'd like to keep him for," she murmured, and Peter thought she might have blushed. She stilled suddenly, walking towards Peter slowly, and she bent at her waist to look at him in the eye. "But," she said, "You killed the person I love. Everyday I wake up and it hurts to be alive, I'm alone," she said, her eyes fluttering closed, anguish etched into her features. "There is no pain like losing someone you love. I want to kill you," she said, opening her eyes seething hatred in their depths. "But you won't suffer, not like I do. I want you to wake up every day and feel like you're not whole. There is no salve for this wound. And you deserve it," she hissed, she raised her hand again, but lowered it. 

"Please?" Peter tried, "I'll do anyth," he started to say, "please, is there something else? Valentine wasn't there, he didn't know." 

"I didn't know. Adrik didn't know. You have an advantage, every time you see him, you will know the end is near, you'll have a chance to say goodbye," she said, and she walked away leaving Peter with the barest light, his arms straining against the ropes. Peter tried to calm himself, he tried to focus his breathing to tune out the pain. He tried to test the ropes, but they were tied tightly. He tried to feel if there was anything in his pockets that might be helpful, but he was pretty sure he'd been searched.

Peter wasn't sure how much time had passed, but one of Natasha's henchmen came back. He cut Peter's hands down and they dropped uselessly to his side, he couldn't feel them, but there was a burning ache in his shoulders. Peter tried to work the feeling back into his arms. "Come," he said gesturing. Peter was led to another room, and the brightness caused him to squint.

"Pater, come here," Natasha called softly. Peter heard moaning before he could see, but when he got to Natasha's side, she was watching him gleefully, and then she nodded towards the noise. Valentine was in bed with Uruk and the other guy. Val was between them, on his knees as they both kissed him, pressing against him. Val was moaning and pressing against them, reaching for them. They were still dressed, but Val started fumbling with his shirt, pulling it over his head. Peter sucked in a sharp breath.

Nothing is real - Valentine had told him. Do what you have to to keep us alive.

Val seemed off still though, Peter watched, and the movements were slowed, Valentine’s eyes were half lidded, he was drugged, Peter caught Natasha's gaze. "Are you jealous?" She asked gleefully, "look at him with those boys?" she demanded, attempting a sexy pouty look. Peter didn't say anything, but his gut hurt. He wanted to find a way to spare Valentine from what was going to happen, and he didn't think any part of Valentine would enjoy what was happening to him despite appearances, but Peter was glad that it wasn't violent. 

"Or am I mistaken, do you and Valentine, do this?" She asked arching an eyebrow at Valentine. 

"No, Valentine and I do not drug each other, and have sex with other people," Peter said. Natasha stiffened, she pursed her lips and then looked at Peter with narrow eyes.

"What makes you think?" She said, then she bit down on her lip. "Uruk, Alexy, leave him!" She snapped. They pulled away and Val reached for them longingly.

"Come back," he slurred, falling on the sheets. His hands went to his own skin, as he twisted sensually on the bed. 

"Come on," she said grabbing Peter's shirt sleeve and approaching the bed. "Oh Grigory," she purred, "are you lonely?" Valentine reached for her, and she kissed him, then she pushed Val towards Peter. Val giggled, and reached for Peter.

"You're cute," he said kissing Peter. Peter watched him, there was no recognition, and Val was definitely out of it. Peter went through the date rape drugs he knew and had a fair guess that Val had been given some, and that he may not remember what happened.

"You don't want to kiss him back?" Natasha asked.

"What do you want?" Peter asked her, as his hand stroked Val's cheek. 

"I want to see how much you love him," she said angrily. "Fuck him, or they will," she said nodding at her men standing in the background. "They like it very rough," she smiled, "does Grigory?" Peter's heart slammed against his chest. He knew he had Val's permission for sex, and apparently for anything that kept them both alive, but he still recoiled at the idea of having sex with Val - no it wouldn't be sex, sex implied consent which Val couldn't do - the idea of raping Valentine repulsed him. "You decline?' She said deadpan. Uruk started to step forward, so Peter leaned in to kiss Valentine. 

The idea of what Natasha’s men might do sickened him more. At least, even if this was wrong, and it felt very wrong, at least he could protect Val as much as possible. He tried to put himself in Val's place, and he would prefer Valentine If the situation was reversed and he hoped Val would feel the same way. Peter tried not to think too much, as he kissed Valentine. Natasha watched with her withering glare, Peter closed his eyes, as Valentine pulled at him, at his shirt, lifting it from his head, and Valentine was back, going for his jeans. 

"Val," Peter whispered, hoping for some sense of recognition, permission, not from the body in front of him that was eager and willing but from the person behind that.

"Uhhhm," Val moaned against, him his hands finding Peter. "Come on," Val slurred, his hands undoing his own pants, he fell back kicking them off, “I’m going to make you feel so good,” Val promised, and then he was undoing Peter’s pants. ‘Damn it, Damn it, dammit,’ Peter's mind was screaming. Peter pulled Valentine in and kissed him, tried to pretend they weren't there, that Valentine wasn't drugged, that this whole sick and awful scene was not taking place. Peter found it difficult to get hard, but Val expertly dove into a blow job, and it sickened Peter further, Val was having a to do a lot of work to participate in his own rape. 

"I don't have lube," Peter said. 

"Use your spit," Natasha said emotionless.

"It isn't good, it can hurt," Peter explained as if her objection was a misunderstanding regarding comfort. 

"Boohoo, so does someone killing the person you love," Natasha seethed. She stood then pacing away, and Valentine was bending over, pressing back against Peter. He tried to focus, and use as much spit and saliva as he could. He wanted to get it over with quick, he had to focus, Val was pressing back against him, and gasping. Peter steadied him and then guided himself in, thrusting quickly, and Val moaned beneath him, smiling back over his shoulder through half lidded eyes. Val's hand grabbed Peter's hand guiding it to Valentine's own erection and Peter stroked him. He was never so disappointed at how long sex was lasting. He tried to picture them somewhere else, anything to get his head out of the way. He could feel the tightness and the moisture evaporating. 

"Too rough," Val said, starting to pull away, Peter spit into his hand again. 

"No!" Natasha said sharply, "finish." 

"But," Peter protested looking at Valentine and then at the shadows. 

"If you can't," she threatened looking at the guys behind her, Peter's body tensed, he felt ill. 

"Stop," Val moaned softly.

"Forgive me," Peter choked and he thrust.

“Relax, we can do what you want,” Val slurred, and Val tried to pull away, but Peter held him, and Valentine's movements were hindered under the drugs. He thrust several times trying to finish, Val was struggling beneath him.

"Stop, why?" he slurred, Peter held him, trying to comfort him as he violated him, and when the orgasm happened it was joyless, there was no sweet release, or satisfaction, Peter only felt ill.

"Please stop," Val begged, and Peter pulled back, the small splotches of blood caused him to shudder and he pulled Val to him, hugging him, but Val was backing away scared. "Don't," he said, his eyes wild looking at Peter with such betrayal and hurt. “You’re an asshole,” Val accused, wiping at a tear. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Peter said, reaching out, and tears stung and fell before he could contain them. Val recoiled further, and Peter's chest heaved in pain. 'Please don't let him remember this,' Peter thought. There was a slow clap from the background and Peter felt hatred boiling in his veins. He wanted to kill her. 

"Leave him alone, Pater, can you see he's hurt," she mocked. Peter slid off the bed, fixing his clothing as Val watched him shrinking away. Natasha crawled onto the bed, "Oh honey, did the bad man hurt you?" She asked and Val seemed wary of her too. 

"Can I go?" Val asked, grabbing his shirt, and pulling his pants toward him. He was pulling them on warily, looking between Peter and Natasha.

"Soon honey, we have to let the bad man finish, then you can go," she said, "just lay down or he'll get really angry." Val sat on the edge of the bed, "come on sweetie, all the way," she said patting the bed beside her. Val tentatively crawled to that spot. "I'm sorry he hurt you," and they both gave Peter a withering look. "Stay here, okay? Let me see if I can make him stop," she promised Val nodded.

Natasha handed Peter cash, he didn’t count it or look at it. “Pay him,” she said softly. Peter shook his head, but Val put out his hand indignantly. Peter winced, and handed over the money.

Two sets of arms grabbed Peter suddenly from behind, and a hand went to his mouth "hey," he protested, as he was pulled backwards, and away from the bed. Uruk grabbed Valentine, Valentine fought back but it was not a contest, Val was drugged and much smaller. Uruk forced him to the floor at the foot of the bed. Val begged to be let go and asked why it was happening, but Uruk ignored him. 

"Hand," Uruk said, holding one end of a rope that was attached to one corner of the bed. Val shrunk away and Uruk slapped him hard, causing Val to lurch to the side, he threw out his hands to avoid hitting the cement floor face first. Val let out a shaky breath and pushed himself up, one hand going to his cheek. "Hand," Uruk said again and with silent tears, and a small sob Valentine held out a trembling hand Uruk wrapped the rope around his wrist and then the bedpost. Then he held out his hand for the other.

"Please," Val said softly, Uruk pulled his hand back, but Val flinched and held out his hand. Uruk placed it next to his other hand and tied them tight. Val was on his knees both hands secured in front of him. His back was stiff, and Peter could see the slight tremor in his body. 

"Please," Val was appealing, looking at Uruk and trying to look at Natasha and Peter. 

"Please," Peter added his own soft plea to the effort, staring at Natasha.

"Will please bring Adrik back?" Natasha asked "I thought not," she said after Peter dropped his head, tears stinging his eyes. 

"I'm begging," Peter said dropping to his knees in front of her, he started to reach for her, but Val made a sharp intake of breath, and Peter whipped his head around to see Uruk with a fistful of his hair.

"No touching," Natasha said clicking her tongue.

"I wasn't going to do anything," Peter promised backing away further. Uruk instantly released Valentine who shrunk closer to the bed. 

"Here," she said giving a whip to Peter, and Alexy grabbed Peter by the arm jerking him to his feet. 

"What, no," Peter protested.

"You can do it, or I can," she offered "But, if you do it, you can control how hard the hit is, if you let me do it, I get to control how hard." Peter shook his head.

"I can't," Peter said, the handle limp in his hand. 

"Really, will it alleviate some of your guilt if you aren't the one swinging? Either way you are responsible, don't you want to try to minimize the damage you are causing?" She invited, "don't you love him?"

"Please!" Peter begged, as he he licked his lips, his breathing coming in shallow desperate gulps, the room felt like it was spinning, this couldn’t be happening. A memory haunted Peter:  
“I”m kind of waiting for you to hit me, how fucked up is that?” Val asked, shaking his head.  
Peter’s hands stilled, and he caught Val’s eyes, “that’s going to be a long wait for something that isn’t going to happen. I would never hit you Valentine, or hurt you.”  
"I'll count to five," she said, "one," Peter didn't know how to control the intensity of the whip or even how to wield it properly. Whips and chains had never been an appealing sexual activity for him, and he couldn't imagine hurting anyone much less Valentine. "Two." She said, and Peter flicked the whip lightly, it barely moved, and didn't make it to Valentine. Natasha rolled her eyes, and snatched the whip, she whirled it over her head and it sailed through the air and snapped loudly, but she hit the bed, not Valentine who jumped. There was no doubt it would have been painful and damaging. 

"Don't," Val started pleading and he tried to back away but there was no room.

"You want me to go again, see what it does to flesh?" She whispered.

"No no," Peter said taking the whip. He was shaking, but he let the whip fly again, it was nowhere near as loud or with as much force as Natasha had used, but Valentine still flinched when it hit him. 

"Again," Natasha said, watching with intensity. She began pacing behind Peter, and he swung again. 

"Is there anything within the realm of possibility I can do?" Peter begged, knowing her answers surrounding the resurrection of her dead lover were likely the response. 

"Again," she said instead, and Peter swung, the feel of it hitting Valentine made his hands shake, and Valentine's small soft crying made him feel like his soul was being shredded, every part of him hurt, and his body strained against wanting to not cause Valentine pain, but having to in order to minimize much bigger pain. Natasha pressed against Peter's back, her hands on Peter's hips.

"We can work something out," Valentine was calling over his shoulder, his words slurred through the haze of drugs and tears. 

"Doesn't it feel a little good?" She asked, breathily, "doesn't he deserve it a little for making out with Uruk and Alexy, he kissed them, doesn't it make you a little angry? Don't you want him to belong to you?' She purred, seemingly aroused by the idea. 

"No," Peter said, "let me take his place," he begged, as red welts were starting to show, and one had cut the skin. "I made you mad, not him." 

"Yes, you did, and look how you suffer, he's getting hit but you are falling apart," She smiled, her hands stroking his stomach. Peter wanted to recoil but he was not going to do anything to piss her off. "Again," she whispered and Valentine was huddled against the bed, holding the post for support, he'd curled up as much as he could, and he would jump when the lash hit. 

"I can make you feel good," Valentine promised, his voice breaking, his body shaking.

"That sounds promising, go to him," Natasha said, taking the whip from him. “I’ll let you boys rest up and get cleaned up, we can play more later. Untie him and take him back to your room, see if he delivers on his promises.” Peter was wary of her, and not at all convinced that she was going to let them leave, or not whip them both when he got to Valentine, but at least he could protect him then. Peter ran to his side, and dropped to his knees, reaching for Valentine's hands. 

"It's okay," Peter whispered. Val had tears running down his face, and he nodded, but shrank away from Peter as well. 

"Yeah, I can do anything," Val promised breathing hard, biting his lip.

"No," Peter said, shaking his head, "you don't have to," and he was cut off as Valentine leaned into kiss him.

"Whatever you want," Valentine was promising through hazy eyes. Peter untied his hands and he noted an edge to Valentine, he wasn't entirely sure that Valentine wasn't planning his own escape and potentially thinking of ways to hurt Peter. 

"It's okay now, we're going to rest and get cleaned up."

"I didn't mean it before, you can do whatever you want, I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I made you mad," Valentine said, still breathing hard, "we can do whatever, I won't say no." Peter swallowed hard, he was shaking and it was hard to undo the ropes, Valentine was pressing against him, his mouth nibbling along Peter’s neck, trying to deliver on his promises. 

"I'm not mad," Peter whispered, "you didn't do anything to deserve this okay," Peter put his hand to Val's cheek as he had done many times, and Val watched him fearfully. Peter let his hand fall and continued working on the ropes, he noticed Val's lip was cut and the other side of his face was swelling where Uruk had hit him. 

"I can make you feel very nice, and we don't need lube," Val was promising, and every word was a knife in Peter’s heart as Val tried to bargain his way out of pain, as Val believed Peter was in control and responsible - well he was responsible - Val was in so much pain, and desperate and Peter felt so inadequate, he couldn't even comfort him.

Valentine stood stiffly with Peter's help, and used his hands to try and seduce Peter, Peter grabbed them, and walked with Valentine following Uruk. "Shh, please Valentine, just come with me," Valentine walked stiffly, silent tears continue to fall, watching Peter fearfully out of the corner of his eye as they walked towards the room.

Peter had one arm under Valentine, helping him walk. They were led to a room with a single bed, and Uruk and Alexy shut them in. Peter led Valentine to the bed, and he noted there was a tray with water, antiseptic, bandages, and ice beside it. Natasha had delivered on the clean up part, but PEter couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about anything she provided.

"Lay on your stomach," Peter said. Val swallowed hard biting his lip, and started to undo his pants.

"No!" Peter said harshly, and Val flinched, laying on his stomach quickly, his hands going to either side of him.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, "I didn't mean to yell, you don't have to do anything, I'm just going to clean these okay?" Val nodded, and Peter wasn't sure if he was really agreeing or if he was saying whatever it took to calm the situation. "No more," Peter promised, his voice shaking and tears running down his own face. "I'm so sorry." Peter covered him with the blanket up to his waist, and he knelt by the bed, and tried to tend to the wounds. Val flinched, and Peter wasn't sure what he could do. "Valentine," he said, still cleaning away blood, he put the ice pack on Valentine's cheek. "Do you recognize me?"

"Yes," he said tears running down his face, "you, were in the other room." Peter nodded painfully.

"From anywhere else?" he asked, his hand itching to reach out and stroke Val's face, to brush the tears away and reassure him.

"No," Val swallowed hard, "is that why?" 

"No," Peter breathed out, "you didn't do anything to deserve that, okay?"

"Then why?" Val asked, shaking and trying to put more space between him and Peter.

"I can't explain it, just know that I'm sorry, okay?" Peter asked. Val nodded. 

"Whatever you say," Val agreed readily and fearfully. Peter grimaced. 

Peter found two pills on the table and one was a sedative and one was for pain. He gave Val the pain one, and began cleaning the wounds. Val flinched, clenching and unclenching. "Shh, it's going to be okay," Peter whispered as Val cried out

"I'm sorry, I'll try to be quiet," Val slurred. 

"No, you can scream if you need to," Peter felt remorse as he realized Val was still trying to take cues from him to avoid getting hurt. 

"Whatever you want," Val offered.

"No, Dammit," Peter said grinding his teeth, and Val flinched.

"I don't know what you want," Val said in a shaky voice, he tried to sit up and reach for Peter, "I can make you happy,"

"I don't want anything, you just react how you need to," Peter tried, focusing on cleaning the wounds, and pushing Val back gently.

"Do you have a preference," Val hissed in pain as the antiseptic was applied.

"No," fuck fuck fuck, Peter thought. He was holding Val prisoner in a very different way now and he didn't know how to let him out. 

"You seem tense," Val whispered, breathing nervously, he turned his head to look at Peter, "I can help," he offered and one hand went towards Peter's lap, “if I can do whatever I want - I want to make you happy,” Peter recognized the lie, oh the things Val must have had to do to survive, he was very convincing, but Peter knew him too well, even a drugged version of him. His fingers went to Peter’s zipper.

“No,” Peter grabbed him quickly, and perhaps too roughly.

"Okay, okay," Val said backing away and flinching. Peter hadn't mean to react so but he didn't think he could handle it if Valentine tried to jerk him off right now. Peter cleaned everything the best he could. 

"I'm going to try to get us out of here," Peter promised, his hand lightly stroking Val's cheek out of habit. Peter could only describe Valentine's reaction as tolerating his touch, and what did he expect? "Do you want me to do anything?" Peter asked, he wasn't touching Valentine, but Val was clearly tracking all of his movements, his clever lover was calculating a way out, and even though Peter was the object of his fear, he was proud of him for defending himself. Valentine made more sense to him, the things he did. He desperately wanted to touch him but his touch was unwelcome. 

"Do you want me to do anything ?" Valentine asked in a husky voice, one hand drifting to Peter's leg. 

"No, Valentine," he said, closing his eyes. "I know this is hard to believe right now, but you and I know each other very well, and I love you," Peter tried. 

"Of course you do," Valentine agreed, "otherwise you wouldn't try so hard to show me what to do," Valentine agreed and Peter tensed. This was not the first time someone had hurt Valentine and said they loved him. Peter wanted to take it back, Val was mixed up in his time and place, and obviously had no memory of who Peter was. He could read Valentine's every movement and Valentine was ready to use whatever was at his disposal to satisfy Peter and calm things down, he could tell Valentine believed sex was the answer here. Peter hated it, hated seeing this side, hating know that Valentine had to have this side to survive and how many people had exploited these offers. 

"No," Peter tried again. "Do you want me to hold you."

"You can do whatever you want, I love you too, I belong to you," Valentine promised, and Peter wanted to throw up. Why it had taken Valentine so long to say he loved him, was very clear, in fact it was difficult to figure out how Valentine had ever been able to say it to him at all. 

Valentine and Peter watched each other for a long period of time, until Valentine fell asleep fitfully. Peter watched him, and ached. Valentine was right, she was a crazy bitch. Peter wallowed in his agony for a little while longer, but then thinking of Valentine made him really assess his surroundings. Valentine had told him to do whatever he had to to survive and nursing his own trauma was unlikely to get either of them freed. He checked the room, but there was nothing to use as a weapon, or another means of escape. 

The door cracked open and Natasha came in, "there Henri," she said, pointing at the small table by their bed. Henri took the bandages and tray, and placed a small chair for Natasha. "Sit," she told Peter indicating the bed. Peter sat on the edge trying not to disturb Valentine.

"Go, but not far," she instructed. Henri disappeared beyond the open door, but she took the sedative pill from the tray. She held out the pill for Peter, "it will help him sleep" Peter eyed her warily "Give it to him, or Henri will come back and do it the hard way. If I want to poison him or kill him, I don't need your permission, what would you do to stop me?" She smirked. 

Peter nudged Valentine and Val groggily opened his eyes, he reached for Peter, like he was being woken from a nap to perform sexual favors. Peter fended off his hands and gave him the pill, Valentine drifted again. 

"I nursed Adrik for several days, applying bandages, cleaning his wound," she smiled tightly. "I thought I could save him. I promised him I would save him, I loved him so much, it felt like he couldn't possibly die because I could keep him here, I would have done anything," she sounded far away, the memory clearly playing in her mind, Peter actually felt sorry for her. "I want you to experience that. Fixing the damage, and it won't matter. Did you promise to rescue him already, did he believe you?" 

"I'm going to let you sleep. I want you to know that, I want you to sleep well with Valentine in your arms, believing your love and concern is enough to save him." Peter flinched.

"Is there nothing?" Peter asked, shrugging 

"Make me an offer," she suggested. 

"Me for him?" Peter said

"I already have you both, that doesn't really seem like something you can negotiate." She observed, "how about him for you, leave him with me, and you can go home." Val flinched occasionally in his sleep. 

"No, how about money?" Peter asked. 

"Here," she said, handing Peter two sleeping pills.

"What?"

"Did you know you can go insane from lack of sleep?" She asked Peter wondered if that is what happened to Natasha. "I want you to be well rested at all times. I want you to be aware of what is happening during the day, not protected under the veil of some sleep deprived insanity. Do you need Henri's help?" She offered. Peter took the pills. "Do you think he would forgive you if he knew what happened today?" Peter shrugged unsure what answer might appease her and which answer might cause her to fly into a rage. "I guess we'll find out," she breathed. She stood and Henri retrieved the chair, he heard the door lock. 

Peter sat next to Valentine for a long time, watching him, seeing the marks on his back, remember his soft pleas. He felt he had no right to touch Valentine or even lay in the bed. If he was a better man, he thought he might sleep on the cement floor. He was too scared to leave Valentine, and a part of him, just at the edge of his conscious knew he wanted the comfort of holding Valentine. Peter lay next to him, his arms crossed over his chest. He listened to Valentine breathing deeply in his sleep, he was pretty sure the pills mixed with the other drugs had knocked him out. Peter tentatively stroked Valentine's cheek, and his hair. Val seemed to lean into it, or maybe Peter just imagined it because he wanted to. He kissed Val on the forehead, and held one of his hands, his thumb stroking Val's wrist where the rope had made marks. It didn't take long for the sedative to overtake him and he feel asleep hoping if anything happened, he would be able to rouse himself and defend Valentine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are good, but comments are better.


	4. The Wheel Turns Again...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wheel keeps spinning and a choice made in the heat of the moment may end up costing more than Peter had considered. It's much easier to forget someone else's pain than it is to forget your own, it doesn't mean your enemies aren't waiting in the wings for their opportunity at revenge.
> 
> Peter and Valentine share a quiet evening at home. Valentine loves Peter, and has changed their relationship status to "boyfriend". What could possibly go wrong? Fun fact, don't piss off a psychopath.

***

Soft lips on his mouth roused Peter from his sleep. "Hey," Valentine said against his mouth. Peter pulled away. "Hey," Valentine said wincing a little as he moved closer. 

"I," Peter said, shaking his head, tears springing to his eyes, whatever drugs were in Valentine's system had disappeared and he was looking at Peter, with concern and love. 

"Hey now," Valentine said, his hand going to Peter's jaw, and Peter pressed into the sensation, hating that he took the comfort Val offered and at his own inability to sooth Valentine. Val watched him, and then leaned in to kiss him. Peter was so grateful to have this moment with him, but he wondered how Val might feel if he knew the truth.

"Something bad happened," Peter choked out, his hands going to Val's neck, pulling him in gently, feeling Val's heartbeat beneath his thumb. 

"I can’t really remember, but I can guess," Val said, as he moved painfully.

"No, it's worse than you know," Peter said, “I did something.” 

"Shh," Val soothed, sitting up and hugging Peter. "I told you, nothing here is real," Val said, his hands stroking Peter's hair. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it later, okay? Right now, just try not to think about anything except getting out, we just need to survive.” Peter nodded, Valentine was so calm. Peter felt certain Val couldn’t remember anything. 

The door opened and Henri plugged in a tv, he looked at them, “you watch,” he said, and he pressed play and left. 

“How delightful, entertainment,” Val breathed, but his voice caught and Peter could tell Val had the same apprehensive feeling that Natasha wasn’t going to do anything nice for them. They both looked at the screen, and Peter instantly recognized the room from the other night, Valentine was between Alexy and Uruk, kissing them.

Val shook his head, "I don't remember that, Peter," Val said, concern in his voice, and he tried to catch Peter’s eye, "you can't believe." But Peter cut him off, hugging him. 

"I know, I know, don't watch Valentine, please don't watch, it's me okay," Peter tried to explain incoherently. 

"Did they, you?" Val tried to ask, tried to catch Peter's eyes, but Peter shook his head.

"No, I hurt you, I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry," Peter mumbled through tears, Peter slid to the floor and put his head in Valentine's lap as Val stroked his hair, "please forgive me, I would never," Peter's voice caught, his hands holding the outside of Val's legs. Val used his hands to pull Peter's face up. 

"You didn't hurt me, whatever she did, you have to ignore it," Val said, his fingers stroking Peter's cheek. "I'm sorry I don't remember, I don't know how to help you or reassure, but trust me. Whatever she makes us do, we wouldn't hurt each other if she wasn't making us." The scene was changing as Peter climbed onto the bed, and Peter buried his head again, he couldn't, he didn't want Val to see, he didn't want to see. Val watched and listened, the sound was cutting in and out. 

Val covered Peter's ears when the onscreen version of Val started to cry and beg. "Shit," Val breathed out. He kept Peter's ears covered and kissed him, over and over. Peter cried. Valentine kicked the tv, and it fell over, shattering. Peter jerked up. "It wasn't you, okay," Val said holding his jaw firmly and looking into his eyes. "We have to be sharp if we have a chance, don't get distracted by her bullshit, and I'm tougher than I look okay?" Val said, and he kissed Peter long and deep. "I trust you, and whatever happens is necessary okay? Not pleasant, not ideal, but necessary. We're going to do what we have to until we get out of this okay? Even if she makes us hurt each other, it doesn't matter, it's her not us," Val explained. Peter nodded,

"Are you very hurt?" Peter asked, his hands going to Valentine, being careful of his back. 

"No," Val said, and Peter knew he was lying, of course Valentine was going to say no, of course Valentine would try to protect him. Peter pressed his forehead to Valentine. "I love you," Peter said closing his eyes, "I love you so much."

"I know," Valentine said, "I love you too," Valentine returned. Peter shuttered and put his hand to Valentine's heart. 

"I'll do better, I'll keep an eye out," Peter promised.

"You're doing great, don't worry," Val offered and Peter laughed without humor. Valentine was a rock and a genius and Peter was falling apart. He had to get his head together so he could save them, and feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to get them out of this. 

Natasha opened the door swiftly and looked at the television. "If you break the nice things I give you, I won't give you any nice things," she admonished. 

"Sorry," Val immediately apologized. "I'll replace it, but I seem to have misplaced my wallet, if you'd let me run home," Valentine said with a grin.

"Oh you!" Natasha flirted with him. She sat next to Val on the bed, her hand patting his leg. "Did you see Peter's handiwork?" She asked, leaning back to look at his back, and tracing some of the lines. Val flinched, and Peter held Valentine's hands. 

"Yeah," Val breathed out. 

"Which ones your favorite?" She asked, and Peter saw Val roll his eyes. 

"The one on my shoulder," and Val gave Peter secret look, and Peter could have laughed at Val's audacity to manage her crazy and also mock her, without her knowing. Peter buried his face in Val's lap again least she see. 

"Uruk wants to see you, be nice to him," she requested with pouty lips. Val nodded. Uruk came in, and Val stood, his hand lingering on Peter. 

"Peter and I want a kiss goodbye," she said, and Val spun on his heel and kissed her, she threw her arms around Val's back and slapped her palms against it. Val stumbled and went down on one knee, and she still kept kissing him, she ran her fingers along his back and Val was flinching as he maintained the kiss. She laughed against his mouth and then released him. "You are so yummy," she said, one finger tapping her jaw as her eyes lit up. Peter stood and he kissed Valentine, his hands on Val's waist and he kissed him hard, trying to convey his love and affection. Uruk pulled them apart, and they held hands until their fingers unfurled in the distance. 

"You love him so much," Natasha said, savoring the information. "Adrik suffered for a few days, we treated his wounds and we believed he could get better. At night he seemed at his most well, but as the sun rose, he was clearly dying. He was in so much pain," Natasha said, "I slit his throat to end his suffering," tears sprang to her eyes. "Do you love Val enough to end his suffering? How much would you let him endure knowing the end result is the same? Do you think it's better for him to go quickly or to linger for days, only to die in the end?" She asked rapid fire, she stood without letting him answer and Peter had a sinking desperate feeling in his gut. She had slit Adrik's throat. Oh God Peter thought, panic starting to rise up in him. She left shutting off the lights and Peter was plunged into darkness again. Thoughts of what they might be doing to Valentine haunted him. 

***  
“Sit,” Natasha invited, as Val approached a table. Val took in his surroundings, and her men except Uruk melted into the shadows. Valentine sat down. 

“What do you have in mind?” Val asked evenly, grabbing some toast as Natasha gestured invitingly to the spread before them.

“Breakfast?” she teased. Val took a bite, and watched her.

“Are you afraid it’s poisoned?” she asked, smiling widely, a little insanity showing in her eyes.

“I think,” Val said, grabbing his orange juice, “that if you wanted me drugged, it would be very easy to do,” he made a circle with his finger referencing her men hiding in the shadows. 

“You’re so smart,” she said, leaning forward, a hand going to Val’s knee. “Why are you with him, he’s so stupid,” she remarked.

“But rich,” Val offered, tilting his head and smirking. Natasha smiled widely. 

“You don’t love him?” Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Prostitutes don’t love anyone more than they love themselves,” Val whispered, leaning in close, “we have our favorites of course,” Natasha giggled, and Val slid his hand to her waist, he pulled her chair closer, and he kissed her, his hand going to her back. She kissed back eagarely, biting his lip, and Val slid his hand into her purse, finding a bottle of pills. He tried to focus on the kiss and palming the medication. He slid it into his shirt pocket. Allowing the kiss to go on for a few more minutes. He pulled back and Natasha squirmed.

“I have missed you, Adrik and I used to fantasize about you, when that stupid boy backed out, we were so thrilled,” she gushed. 

“Can I?” Val asked, shrugging, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Uruk, that’s no way to treat our guest, take him,” she said waving them off. 

Val walked with Uruk, and could feel the pills in his jacket and he asked questions of Uruk in case they made any jostling sounds. Uruk mostly grunted and stared ahead. Nodding or shaking his head occasionally. He opened the door to the bathroom and nodded for Val to go in. Uruk grabbed his neck, and pressed him against the wall, not as aggressive as it could have been, “behave,” he warned.

“If I plan to do anything naughty,” Val said, his voice low and seductive, “I promise to call you,” he offered, letting his eyes flutter. Uruk smiled and pushed Val forward. Val ducked into a stall and sat down. He coughed a few times as he popped open the pills and emptied the capsule’s powder back into the bottle. Val was quick, being a dealer had given him adept quick hands at packaging drugs. He flushed the capsules, and put the bottle back in his shirt. Uruk was looking at this cell phone, but he put it away and watched Valentine wash his hands. 

They walked back to Natasha, and Val ate more food, and Natasha did her best to flirt and entertain him. 

“I have to say I didn’t expect a nice breakfast,” Val said, watching her.

“Grigory, doll,” she said, her hands cupping his cheeks. “I told you, I didn’t want to hurt you. You will get hurt later, by your stupid boyfriend, but I’m not going to do anything to you,” she admonished him. Val nodded. 

“Do you have any champagne?” Val asked, holding up the pitcher of orange juice, “or vodka?” Natasha nodded and waved her hand, Henri came back with a bottle. “Your friends join us? Sounds like it’s going to be a long day,” Valentine smirked. She gestured for the men to come to the table, and Val set up the glasses. He set the bottle of vodka in his lap -grateful that the bottle was a dark blue, and pretended to struggle to open it, Natasha watched him and he leaned in to kiss her again as he got the lid off, he put one hand to her neck, and kissed deeply, using his other to remove the pill bottle. He leaned to his other side and kissed Uruk, his tongue playfully teasing the older man’s mouth. Uruk wasn’t much for tender teasing Val guessed, as he kissed back fiercely, Val felt Natasha leaning in and her mouth joined Uruk’s, Val dumped the pills into the vodka bottle, and then put the bottle back in this jacket. He broke off the kiss.

“We drink,” he said, and Natasha kept her hand on his shoulder as he poured orange juice first. He didn’t have a good way to mix in the powder, so he hoped the orange juice would hide it, he then added the vodka. He handed out the glasses, and everyone cheered, Val set his glass down, picked up the vodka and pretended to drink, his thumb covering the hole as they all downed their drinks. He made more drinks, and continued to pretend to drink it straight. “Have to watch my weight,” he teased Natasha, kissing her, his hand on her hip, as Uruk pressed up against him, Val struggled not to cry out as Uruk pressed into his back. He mentally calculated, he probably needed to distract them for another half hour. 

“Oh Grigory,” she purred, “it seems you’re worked up, let’s get your boyfriend,” she suggested, but there was darkness in her eyes. “I am sorry he loves you,” she said with pouty lips, her fingers tracing his jaw, and there was not quite sadness, more like regret and lust in her eyes. 

“Me too,” Valentine whispered. 

“Go get him,” she said gesturing to Alexy. 

*** 

It felt like hours had passed before Alexy returned, flicking on the light and leading Peter out of the room. Val was sitting on the bed, and Natasha was with him. He was clear eyed so either they hadn't drugged him, or the drugs hadn't kicked in yet. Natasha stood as Peter approached, watching carefully for any sign of distress from Valentine.

"Don't be so nervous, we just had a brilliant lunch," she offered. Val raised his eyebrows but nodded confirming her information. "Now, Valentine has a very different appetite," she said smiling. 

She pressed up against Peter, her nails scraping along his flesh, not doing damage, but the threat was there. “He’s not drugged,” she whispered into Peter’s ear. Natasha gestured to Uruk, who leaned in and kissed Valentine, and Val kissed him back, Peter could tell it was the same detached designed to be sensual tricks of the trade Valentine knew, but it still stung to watch, to imagine what was being used against Valentine to cause him to participate so willingly. Peter’s eyes narrowed in anger, he hated Natasha and her boys. 

“Oh Pater, you’re not getting upset are you? I would too if my property behaved so badly,” she whispered, Peter tensed at her use of the word property. He shoved down the part of him that wanted to defend Valentine. Uruk was pushing Valentine back on the bed, and Peter could see Val tensing while still trying to play the role. “You want me to have Uruk discipline him for you, teach him how to behave?” she asked, a giddiness in her voice. 

“No thank you,” Peter said evenly. His arms crossing, he was rubbing his forearms, and his whole body was tensing, it was hard to watch someone getting hurt especially when it was Peter’s fault. He regretted shooting Adrik, at feeling a small sense of joy at harming someone who hurt Valentine. None of this was worth it though, he would take it all back. 

“Someone has to,” she offered and Uruk slapped Valentine hard, Val tensed, his eyes scanning the room, and Peter knew Valentine was stuffing the urge to fight back as he looked for a weapon, Val was tough and reckless. Instead he watched Uruk warily, keeping his hands firmly at his sides. Peter smiled, Valentine never ceased to amaze.

“You like that, want him to do it again?” Natasha asked.

“No,” Peter said.

“Someone has to, prostitutes get out of hand if you don’t keep them in their place,” Natasha offered. “Pick, you or Uruk,” she invited. Uruk’s hand came back and Val braced himself, as Peter stepped forward. It was involuntarily, he didn’t think he could hit Valentine, he just wanted Uruk to stop. 

“Go,” Natasha encouraged, and she hissed into his ear, “you put him on his back and show him who’s in charge, or Uruk will. Peter didn’t think she had randomly chosen Val’s back, as Peter pictured the welts there. She wanted Peter to hurt him. Peter closed his eyes, but Val watched from the bed and nodded slightly. Uruk stepped back and Peter stood over Valentine. Peter shook, and closed his eyes to steady himself. Natasha stood a few feet back but across from him, she held up her hand gesturing for Peter to hit Val. Peter sucked in a breath, but he couldn’t make his hand move, Val looked at Peter, and stood, kissing him.

“I’m sorry,” Val said loudly, “you know who I am, and I need lots of lovers,” Val said loudly, then his mouth close to Peter’s, barely a whisper, “just do it, they’ll kill us, just make it work, push me,” Val encouraged. Uruk started to walk towards them, and Peter took a deep breath, and shoved Valentine, who theatrically added to the force falling back on the bed. Peter closed his eyes and swung, his palm connecting with Val’s cheek, luckily Val added to the drama of that as well by flinging his head to the side. Peter had hit him, there was no way to fake it, but it hadn’t been hard. Val held his cheek and looked up scared, but not his eyes, his eyes had a secret message encouraging Peter.

Peter swallowed hard, his hands shaking, as he climbed onto the mattress, and pressed Val back. "Val kissed him, and worked his way up to his jawline," I have a plan," he whispered. Val was wincing slightly, but Peter could tell it hurt more than Val was letting on "I need thirty minutes," Val promised, “just don’t stop, we can do this,” Val encouraged.

Val was sweating and pale, he was swallowing hard, his breath coming in short little gasps, but he gestured for Peter to come to him. Peter tried not to press his weight onto Valentine, and his brain tried to think of a way to lessen the pressure on Val’s back. “Just a moment in time," Val whispered pulling Peter closer. Peter tensed, and tried to kiss Valentine, tried to offset some of the pain with pleasure, or affection at least. 

Peter's arms were shaking at attempting to hold up his own weight and also provide some leverage for Valentine. Peter watched out of the corner of his eye, and lifted Val off his back, having him kneel so he could help him out of his pants, he was trying to buy Valentine time off his back. Val caught on, and sensually undressed himself, Peter helped him get his shirt off, and Peter saw blood splatters on the back of it. He tried not to focus on that. They were in two places, on one level performing to keep each other alive, but on another level offering each other comfort and affection. Peter leaned in to kiss Val and he could see blood on the sheets, the wounds on his back must be opening. 

Peter couldn't make himself aroused at all. He knew Val was hurting from yesterday both the rape and the lashing, he couldn't get turned on by causing Valentine pain, it just wasn't in his psyche. But Val took matters into his own hands, and mouth and attempted to get him hard, and it worked somewhat, and Peter tried to be aroused. He tried not to picture what happened yesterday, he tried to forget that Natasha and her crew were there, standing back but in his peripheral vision. 

"I can't," Peter whispered, seeing Val flinch as he went onto his back again. But Val did the guiding and began thrusting for Peter, and Peter felt even worse. Val was having to orchestrate his own sexual assault and do all the work, Peter was furious with himself, he didn't want to make it harder on Valentine, but his body just wouldn't respond to torturing Val. He thrust, and even as he lost his arousal, he pretended, trying to minimize movement. Peter was crying and he saw the tears fall on Valentine and he hated himself. Valentine was doing everything he could to keep them alive, and Peter felt absolutely useless. Val winced with each thrust, his breathing shaky, but he kept watching Peter and mouthing reassurances which only compounded the issue. 

Natasha appeared at Val's side, "I don't think he's going to give you what you want Grigory," she said looking a Peter accusatory. "But I'll take care of you baby," She promised. 

Henri and Alexy were grabbing Peter, and pulling him, he tried to hold onto Valentine as Uruk pulled Val's legs, yanking him halfway off the bed. Henri and Alexy had Peter bent over, and pressed against the bed, holding his arms, and pinning him down. Peter looked across, and Uruk had Valentine bent over the opposite side of the bed, holding Val by the back of the neck, pressing him into the mattress. 

"Please," Peter said, "please me, not him, I'll do it, I'll do anything, let him go!" Peter begged. They ignored him, and Peter felt hollow, useless. Peter got one of his hands free and reached for Valentine, and Val reached towards him as well, their hands locked onto each other's forearms, and Peter let silent tears fall, as he watched Uruk thrust into Val, the bed shaking, Val grunting painfully, but still holding Peter's forearm, squeezing every time Uruk thrust. Peter hated that he couldn't spare Valentine, he'd tried to make his body respond. Val's eyes were shut tightly, and Peter wanted to look away but he couldn't. 

"You're feel so nice," Uruk said, "a little old for me, but still pretty," he crooned at Val. "I don't know what his problem is," he said referring to Peter, "you feel so good to me." Uruk was rough, and Val kept his eyes closed. As Uruk came, his hand driving to Val's throat and squeezing. Peter tried to pull him back, and Val reached for the hand at his throat squirming to release himself. As soon as Uruk finished coming he let go of Valentine, and he slapped Val across the back. Henri and Alexy released Peter and he scrambled across the bed, putting his body between Uruk and Valentine. 

"I'm sorry," Peter said, "I'm sorry," he muttered again and Val's eyes were still closed, he was pale, and shaking, struggling to draw in breaths. Peter wanted to wrap his arms around him, but didn't want to touch his back. Peter helped Val secure his pants and then he redid his own. He didn't know where Val’s shirt was, but Valentine shouldn't be wearing one anyway, the wounds on his back were bleeding and some appeared to be oozing. Peter put his hands on either side of Val's face and kissed him, then checked his neck where bruises were blossoming. 

"Just a little longer," Val whispered against Peter's ear. Peter didn't know what he meant, but kissed him nodding anyway. 

"You're both so beautiful," Natasha said, and Peter saw she had tears coming down her face. Peter helped Valentine stand and Natasha pursed her lips. 

“I think you do love him,” Natasha said, looking at Valentine harshly. “That’s a stupid thing to do,” she sighed pacing, and it looked like she might be talking to herself, but Peter couldn’t make out the words. 

“Pater,” she hissed, her head turning towards him. The other men backed up, and Natasha threw a knife at Peter’s feet. “I’ll give him back to Uruk, or you can end his suffering now,” she offered. Val looked at the knife, Peter and then Natasha, he seemed to realize her intent, and he stiffened. Peter grabbed the knife, but he put himself between Valentine and her. 

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Peter said, the knife wasn’t very big or dangerous, it certainly wasn’t going to help him stand against her three big enforcers. 

"Pater I need you to decide how much you love him?" Valentine pushed his way in front of Peter, but Peter put his arm around Valentine’s neck, and held him, in case she was intent on slitting his throat as she had done to Adrik. Peter regretted pulling Val’s back to his chest as it must hurt his injuries, Peter turned so his back was exposed and Val was against the wall. Trying to provide as much coverage as possible, Peter couldn't access the logical part of his mind, they were trapped and all he could do was attempt to minimize any damage to Valentine, who was already breathing in a labored fashion. Val was trying to get out from behind him, but Peter was bigger and stronger, and he wasn't going to let Val take anymore damage that belonged to him. 

Uruk was grabbing at him, and Peter went to the ground with Valentine, curling into a ball around him, he had to protect him, but Henri was grabbing him, and Uruk was grabbing at Valentine, Peter kept his arm around Valentine's neck as Natasha stood there, leaning over them.

"No!" Peter said firmly.

"Now, Pater, I explained to you how things were going to go, this is nonsense," she chastised. She held up a picture of the bloody pulpy mess again. "Grigory, tell Pater which you prefer, the knife or this?" She instructed. Peter contemplated stabbing her, at the very least he wanted her to die with them. But the knife was sharp and small, he doubted he'd do more than piss her off. Valentine had told him to stay sharp, he had to think of something. 

"Natasha," Peter pleaded, "please, please let him go, I'll stay, I'll do whatever you want, please!" Peter shouted. Natasha laughed at him, Val was kicking back and pressing himself into Peter as Uruk attempted to grab his legs and yank him away. 

"Why don't we break some bones and see if Pater changes his mind," she suggested Peter held Val tightly, he grabbed the knife, and pressed it into the flesh of his own forearm cutting down to his wrist. 

"No, no, no!" Natasha snapped, "that's not the game," she said, reaching for the knife, as Peter's arm started to bleed 

"Peter,!" Val snapped, grabbing his arm. Everyone seemed frozen in place as blood poured from Peter's arm. 

"See, I won't be able to watch, let him go," Peter implored, he grabbed Natsha's wrist and pulled her hand towards his own neck with the knife. "Please, you want vengeance, I did it, please let him go?" Peter felt himself getting lightheaded and his grip on her arm was loosening. "Please, please, please, please," he muttered until it turned into slurring, and then maybe he wasn't even saying things out loud maybe it was just echoing in his head. He heard laughter and vaguely heard Valentine yelling for him, but it sounded so far away. Then Peter didn't hear anything at all. 

***

Peter felt arms around him, as he was dragged along the floor, "Damn it Peter,' Val was saying, "I told you I had a plan, you have to learn to trust me," Val was saying, and Peter could hear the undertones of panic. 

"I'm sorry," Peter said, his head lulling to the side. Val had his arms around Peter's chest and was dragging him. "We need to get pressure on that, why didn't you go across your wrist, why lengthwise?" Val complained. Val was gone, and Peter was laying on the floor, he turned his head, and Val was there with two cell phones, one was on speaker and Val was calling an ambulance. On the other he heard Backstrom. Val was pressing something onto Peter's forearm.

"Peter stay with me," Val demanded, Peter's hand went weakly to Val's cheek. 

"It's going to be okay," Peter promised, "you're going to be okay."

"We're going to be okay!" Val snapped. "They're drugged, but who knows what they're going to do. I hadn't planned to stay and wait for an ambulance, but Peter's bleeding badly, I need you to get here." Peter wondered who Val was talking to. 

"Don't you close your fucking eyes," Val said, slapping Peter on the cheek. "Look at me," Val commanded. 

“I’ve locked the door and barricaded it, we should be fine for awhile, but just get the team and get here!” Val was saying into the phone.

"Of course," Peter complied, wondering why Valentine was so upset with him. He put his hand to Valentine’s cheek and Val leaned into it. "I love you, do anything.,," Peter trailed off. Val's hand was gripping his jaw.

"Focus!" There were crashing sounds, and then there were more people, stomping, pounding, someone was holding Peter's arm, pressing something against his forearm, something was over his mouth, it made it easier to breath. He thought they might be EMTs, oh shit he hoped Val wasn't hurt badly.

"Valentine," Peter said, pushing against the EMT. "You have to get Valentine," Peter said. 

"It's a lot of months away, I'm sure you'll be ready for Valentine's Day," the EMT said, attempting to divert Peter's hands so he could treat the wounds. 

"No, Val, is he okay?"

"I'm fine, let them work," Val said, and Peter could hear such concern in his voice, Val was scared, he had to get to Valentine, make sure he was okay. But Peter fell into darkness before he could find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are good, comments are BETTER... :)


	5. Cry Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free at last, the worst part is over. But Psychopaths have a way of leaving physical, emotional, and psychological scars. Crazy is the unwanted gift that keeps on giving.

  
***

Val stood next to Peter's bed, his legs crossed over each other, his hands across his chest, holding his own shoulders. Dr. Livingston approached him from behind. "They said you wouldn't let anyone examine you," Dr. Livingston said quietly. Val didn't jump, but he turned slowly, silent tears were running down his face. "Oh Valentine," the doctor said, reaching out a hand, but then withdrawing it as Valentine flinched.

"I'm fine," Val shrugged, his hand going to Peter's.

"The sedative they've given Peter is going to keep him out until the morning. So we have some time to talk privately. Would you be open to a medical opinion?" Dr. Livingston asked. Val sighed, dropping his head.

"It's," Val said, shaking his head. "It's, never mind," Val said. "Go ahead."

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked pulling up a stool.

"I don't know if I can, it's so," Val cut off, looking down at Peter.

"Can you tell me what injuries you might have," Dr. Livingston tried again.

"My back," Val breathed.

"Can I look?"

"You can try," Val shrugged. Dr. Livingston started to lift the back of the shirt, and Val hissed as the shirt clung to him.

"What happened?" Dr. Livingston asked, halting his movements.

"It's pretty bloody," Val shrugged.

"Okay," the doctor said. "Any chance I can just cut it off?" Val shrugged indifferently. He turned a chair around and sat by the bedside holding Peter's hand. "It would be easier if we," Dr. Livingston started.

"I'm not leaving him," Val said, his head resting on Peter's uninjured arm, as his other hand was on Peter's stomach. Dr. Livingston nodded.

"Do you mind if I get an assistant?" Val shrugged again.

Dr. Livingston came back some time later, with a young man wearing scrubs, he appeared to be a nurse trainee, Val thought this would be a great training experience, he hoped the guy wasn't squeamish. The nurse pushed a bowl of water, and a rolling cart with all sorts of implements. Val turned away, watching Peter's breath rise and fall. The doctor began cutting away strips of cloth, it hurt, and Val just let silent tears fall, flinching only occasionally. The doctor inquired a few times if Valentine was okay, but his answer was always a monotone yes, that wasn't convincing anyone. The doctor, cleaned wounds, and Val made several sharp intakes of breath, but he kept his eyes on Peter. He reminded himself not to squeeze Peter's hand when it hurt.

"I'm going to leave some of these undressed, in order to avoid the peeling and tearing when the bandages come off. Your shirt is ruined, do you want a gown top?" Val didn't answer, so Dr. Livingston sent the nurse for one, and then helped Val put it on. The nurse left, and the doctor stood for a few minutes.

"Any other injuries?" He asked.

Val buried his head in the mattress. He breathed deeply, and then he lifted his head but kept his eyes closed. "Is there is an award or punch card for most rape kits?, do I get one free?" Val asked. Dr. Livingston looked a little stricken, he held his breath and composed himself.

"I'm sorry Valentine," and Dr. Livingston again reached out a hand and pulled it back. "I can get the forensic examiner and we can do a kit." Val nodded, and let his head drift back to the mattress. "Do you want anyone with you, a friend?" Val shook his head no.

Time passed in a blur, and Valentine was glad Peter slept, he met with forensic examiner, she was nice, and brief, Val didn’t bother to get her name. Val tuned out most of the exam, he laid on his side and at various points felt pressure, as she swabbed, drew blood, examined, she informed him of injuries and tearing and how to care for them - things he already had plenty of experience with, she offered him post exposure HIV medication which sounded miserable for 28 days, but Val agreed anyway.

She asked about recent consensual partners and he gave Peter's name and for some reason his voice cracked then, and a deep part of Val's chest began to ache. He kept his eyes focused on a spot on the wall and tried to nod or shake his head, he wanted to participate as little as possible. Val did want to make sure he was okay, his heart fell a little at the idea of going back to condoms with Peter, then he chastised himself, did he really think Peter was going to be the last guy he had sex with? The thought made him feel strange, disembodied, he questioned himself, had he been thinking that? Val heard the camera clicking as the forensic investigator took pictures, he felt wetness at the corner of his eye which he told himself was just from being over tired, and he closed his eyes and tried to drift. Peter may not be up for anything after this, it didn't really matter what stupid things he believed, because this is what was happening. Valentine glanced at the vials of DNA they collected. Peter’s was in there somewhere, in the kit, his chest hurt.

After they left, Val got dressed, careful of his back. He did grab a second gown shirt, and hold it up over his back, he didn't want anyone to see, and he just wanted to get back to Peter. Val was glad Peter was still sleeping, and he started to climb in next to him, but hesitated. Maybe, with his open wounds and possible exposure, Val shook his head. He caught himself starting to think that life wasn't fair, but there was no basis for him to even consider that it was. Val started to feel nauseated, one for the side effects of the medication, or perhaps just a side effect of being him with his crazy life. Val pulled up a chair again and held Peter's hand resting his head on the bed, and rode the waves of dizziness.

"The Lieutenant has been waiting impatiently, are you able to talk to him?" Dr. Livingston asked. Val shook his no. "I know your history with the police is difficult, but he nor his team are leaving without an update on you and Peter, and the lieutenant says he is coming back with or without my consent," Dr. Livingston said. "He does seem genuinely worried."

"Can you cover my back?" Val asked, "just bandage it."

"I can but it will be more painful when we have to change the wrappings, and they will heal better if we let them breath."

"But it's more dangerous to have open wounds if," Val said and his hand went through his hair. The doctor nodded and grabbed gloves and a dressing material. Val sat at Peter's beside, even if Peter slept it was comforting to be close. The doctor began cleaning and dressing again.

"Don't touch the Lieutenant," Moto said, and Val glanced up as Backstrom, Moto, and Gravely made their way into the room. Val flinched, and Dr. Livingston started to stand.

"What the hell happened? "Backstrom demanded looking at Val, the doctor, and Peter. "What are you doing?" Backstrom demanded walking to where the doctor was.

"I need to ask you again to wait outside," Livingston started.

"What the fuck happened to your back?" Backstrom snapped, and he reached, but Val did shy away then, his face going pale as he moved too quickly.

"Don't," Val breathed out.

"What are those marks?" Backstrom demanded stalking around Valentine so he could see.

"Just, wait," Valentine said, holding up his hand, Dr. Livingston attempted to intercede, but Moto blocked him.

"Please stay back from the Lieutenant," Moto instructed.

"Backstrom, wait," Val said, and Backstrom was pacing like a caged animal. "Can we just talk?" Val asked, looking at Gravely and then Moto. Backstrom waved them out.

"Mr. Valentine," Dr. Livingston said softly, "needs medical attention before he can participate in police interviews, I must insist.."

"He's my brother," Backstrom said, cutting him off. Dr. Livingtston looked between them.

"It's okay," Valentine said, he put a hand to his mouth, and then watched Backstrom from under his lashes. "Can I finish though?"

Backstrom nodded, and Dr. Livingston applied strips, Backstrom walked behind to see, and Valentine closed his eyes. Backstrom came around, and knelt down in front of Valentine so he could look him in the eye. "Are you okay?" Val nodded, and flinched as the doctor taped another bandage across his back. Backstrom watched Valentine's face, and Valentine could tell he was trying to put the pieces together. Backstrom stood and paced again. Valentine heard him pause.

"You can't look at that," Dr. Livingston was saying, but Backstrom obviously side stepped him anyway. Val looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Backstrom perusing the medical paperwork.

"It's fine," Val said, he didn't have the energy to fight and he could hear the panic is Dr. Livingston's voice. Backstrom wouldn't give up anyway, and perhaps it was invasive, overtop, and illegal, but Backstrom had a funny way of showing his affection. Dr. Livingston finished the bandages.

"Do you want me to," Dr. Livingston said, but there was no real question.

"You can go, my big brother will look out for me," Val sighed. Dr. Livingston seemed uncomfortable, but he left. Val stood slowly, leaning against Peter's bed, hoping Peter would keep sleeping through this. Backstrom continued pacing.

"I watched Natasha’s," Backstrom said, and he looked at Valentine, and then at Peter.

"She's pretty crazy," Val said, crossing his arms.

"She said some pretty crazy things," Backstrom nodded "Why don't you tell me what happened."

"I can't, right now, okay?" Val pleaded.

"Then tell me one thing," Backstrom asked.

"What?" Val asked shaking his head.

"She said Peter hurt you, and I don’t think she was lying," Backstrom said.

"Yes, she was, that's what she does, she fucks with people,and believes her own twisted version of events."

"Okay," Backstrom said nodding. "He slit his own wrist?" Backstrom asked, looking at Peter.

"Yes."

"Not out of guilt?" Backstrom asked his eyes sliding back to Valentine.

"No, because she wanted to kill me in front of him, so he tried to take that option away, hoping she would let me go." Backstrom looked contrite then.

"He's going to be okay," Backstrom said.

"Yeah," Val said.

"Are you? Going to be?" Val nodded. "She was really crazy it seems," Backstrom said nodding at the paperwork. "Whip," Backstrom started to ask, but Val pressed his hands to his face, and wiped away moisture.

"Please, can we do this later," Val asked, his voice breaking as one hand drifted to his mouth. "It's been a night." Backstrom nodded, a hand on his hip. He walked towards Valentine.

"I'm sorry," Backstrom said, and he reached out a hand, but then put it back on his hip.

"If you try to hug me, I'll kick you in the fucking jaw," Val whispered, tears in his voice, but he smiled. He blew Backstrom a kiss, as he had so often done when they lived together on the barge.

"I don't hate you," Backstrom said softly.

"I don't hate you either," Val whispered, pain etched into his voice. Backstrom touched Val’s wrist, but then left. Valentine took the bag Gravely had dropped by the door when she had come in earlier. He pulled out a shirt, and then another. He pulled a chair over by Peter's bed, and laid on his side, watching him. He put one hand on the bed, and held Peter's hand through the rail. He fell asleep listening to the beeps and sounds of heart rate activity. Everything would be okay, but his dreams turned to nightmares, and he woke every time he rolled onto his back, or moved wrong. Dr. Livingston came in at one point and gave him pain medication, and offered him a bed elsewhere. Val took the pain medication, but declined the bed. He fell back asleep.

Valentine woke to a hand stroking his face, he turned into it. "Hi," Peter whispered softly. Val opened his eyes, and smiled. Peter was watching him, he'd lowered the rails of his bed, and was staring down from the edge, still holding Val's hand, but his other hand, tracing the lines of Val's face. "How are you?" Peter asked.

"Better," Val said, he started to sit up, but he his back protested and he winced, Peter immediately reached for him, trying to stabilize him. "It's okay," Val hissed painfully, he grabbed the bed with one hand, and stilled. Peter swung his legs over the bed, and reached for Valentine, but Valentine backed away. Peter froze and he made a sharp intake of breath. Val's head snapped up and he saw the look of horror on Peter's face. Val did step forward then, grabbing Peter's hands and putting them to Val’s side, leaning in to kiss his neck, pressing against him, connecting "I'm not afraid of you," Valentine whispered. Peter nodded, but he shook his head a little, and Val kissed him, gently, tentatively, nausea hit him, and he shuddered, he'd stood up too fast and the medication was playing hell with him on top of everything else.

Val tried to ignore it, but his mouth started to water, and he pushed away, dropping to the floor where there was as trash can and threw up. Peter was beside him reaching with his hands, but Val shoved them away. Val was breathing hard, as the nausea passed, and he closed his eyes, breathing hard, shaking "Just," Val said, trying to keep Peter back, but not hurt him further. Val knew what Peter must be thinking, but he couldn't get a break to explain.

"What can I do?" Peter asked miserably. Val put his hand on Peter's forearm, and steadied himself.

"Just, give, me," Val said, steadying his breathing, "second." Peter nodded, holding Val's arms. Val leaned into him, but kept Peter's hands in his, when Peter tried to touch him anywhere else. Val was able to catch his breath and the nausea subsided, he really wanted to lean into Peter's arms, but his back hurt, and there was no comfortable way to share space with him. Peter grabbed a cup of water that was on the tray, and handed it to Valentine. Val swished and spit and then drank some.

Peter's hand went to Val's neck and then started to drift towards his back and Val grabbed his hand and held it to his chest. Val leaned his shoulder into the wall, Peter sat with his back to the wall, letting Val hold his hands, misery was written into his face. "I don't understand," Peter said, licking his lips, "I can't tell if you want me here or not," Peter whispered, watching Val intently.

"I know, it's confusing, I want you here, okay," Val said, squeezing lightly on his hands. "I just. I need you to know some stuff."

Peter looked a little relieved, and nodded his head. Val still held both of Peter's hands with one of his, but he let his other hand drift to Peter's face, stroking lightly, his fingers lightly dancing, Peter could feel the nervous energy, which meant that whatever Valentine wanted to share, he was afraid Peter would reject him or be angry, and Peter felt relieved. Val wasn't mad at him, and whatever was between them was Val's insecurity, and Peter felt absolutely certain there was nothing Valentine could say that would cause Peter to draw back. Peter smiled and leaned into Val's hand. "I love you," Peter whispered. Val nodded.

"Mr. Niedermayer," a nurse said, and she stepped around the bed, "oh," she said seeing them on the floor. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Peter said, smiling at her.

"The doctor is working on your discharge paperwork, I brought you some stuff to review, and I have some of your clothes that one of the officers brought," she said, holding up a bag. Peter stood taking the paperwork, and signing forms. Peter pulled the curtain and pulled on his jeans and a long sleeve jersey cotton shirt. It felt good to be back in his own clothes. Valentine was standing by the time he finished.

"Talk here or at home?" Peter asked, he stood next to Valentine and held one of his hands. He felt more confident now that he knew Valentine was at least okay with hands and kisses. The rest they could figure out.

"Home," Val said smiling. Peter held his hand firmly and they started gathering his items, and preparing to leave.

Backstrom appeared in the doorway, and he looked furious.

"Is everything okay?" Peter asked, a pit in his stomach, he worried someone from the team might be hurt.

"You son of a bitch," Backstorm said, and he closed the distance, punching Peter square in the jaw. Val gasped and stepped between them, hitting Backstrom back. Peter shook his head, but then stepped back forward as Backstrom pressed towards him, pressing against Valentine, who wasn’t moving out of the way. "You lied to me!" Backstrom yelled at Valentine.

"Leave him alone," Valentine yelled back.

"I saw what he did!" Backstrom growled, in Valentine's face, and he reached for Peter again, but Val moved to block him, grunting painfully as Backstrom pressed against him.

"Stop!" Peter said to Backstrom, trying to get Val out from between them.

"You said he didn't hurt you, that she was lying," Backstrom accused.

"She was," Valentine snapped.

"I saw the fucking tapes Valentine, you," Backstrom said pointing a finger at Peter, "You're a disgusting," Backstrom started.

"It's not what you think," Valentine cut him off, Val was sweating, but maintaining his position.

"Stop, Valentine's going to get hurt if you don't stop," Peter snapped.

"Are you threatening him?" Backstrom said, renewing his efforts to get past Valentine, who was shoving, and blocking Backstrom.

"No!" Peter snapped, "But he's hurt and he's not going to move so you can hit me. He's going to get hurt protecting me from you," Peter yelled, also trying to gently extract Valentine from the fight. Moto and Gravely entered the fray, pulling Backstrom back, and Peter and Val retreated a few steps.

"You raped him and whipped him, you were supposed to defend him," Val and Peter both recoiled at the accusation. Peter’s body instantly projected the shame he felt. Peter's breath caught and he looked at Backstorm, Gravely, Moto, John Almond was entering the room, he could see it in their body language, they had all seen, the video. Peter closed his eyes swallowing hard, he'd forgotten about the video, and they must have retrieved it and watched it. What did they think?

"I know what," Peter's voice caught and both of his palms went to his eyes, it was too much. It was difficult enough to have to work this out with Valentine at some point, but with the team too. "You're not wrong," Peter said, his voice cracking.

"Yes, he is," Valentine seethed. "You had no right," Valentine accused.

"It's a police investigation, I didn't steal from your private porn collection," Backstorm volleyed back. "He is,"

"Don't," Valentine choked, "you weren't there and if you watched the video you know he didn't have a choice."

"It looked like he did, or maybe he didn't want one," Backstrom said crossing his arms, "don't defend him."

"He doesn't need to be defended, he didn't do anything wrong," Valentine shouted, but he shuddered too, his back hurt, and he felt dizzy. The medication had a lot of side effects, and fatigue was starting to overtake him. He didn't have the energy for this, but he needed to stay between them, Backstrom was raging and Peter was guilt ridden, Peter would probably let Backstorm pummel him.

"He admits it," Backstrom said, gesturing to Peter.

"Everyone needs to stop yelling," a doctor said entering the room, two security guards were with him, but they looked at the police officers in the room, and they didn't seem to know how to intervene.

"This is a police matter," Backstrom barked.

"Everyone needs to calm down," Detective Almond lent his voice to the argument.

"He's a sadistic fuck," Backstrom snapped again looking at Peter

"He almost died trying to save me," Valentine spat.

"Oh boo hoo he got a little cut, what about you?" Backstrom asked harshly.

Valentine blinked a few times, it was getting hard to follow the conversation, but he knew he had to keep Backstrom and Peter apart. "Valentine?" Peter said, and he was at his side, Val hadn't realized he was leaning on the bed to support himself.

"Don't ‘Valentine’ him, where was all this concern when he could have used it?" Backstrom snapped.

"I love him," Peter finally snapped his own temper getting the better of him.

"That's not love," Backstrom yelled back, and Peter flinched.

"This is a hospital, I need everyone to calm down," the doctor said again.

"Backstrom, can we please discuss this elsewhere, this is a conversation between you and me and doesn't need to involve the whole team," Valentine tried to reason.

"It doesn't involve the whole team, because we have a vacancy, don't come back to the SCU," Backstrom snapped, addressing the comment to Peter.

"Stop! Before," Valentine said, even as the rest of the team gasped and attempted to intervene.

"I want you to come back to the barge," Backstrom demanded, ignoring the team, and talking to Valentine. Valentine felt Peter flinch next to him, but he stayed quiet.

"I'm not going to the barge, I'm going home," Valentine said evenly. Backstrom threw his hands up furiously.

"Valentine," Backstrom sighed, and it was clear he was making a real effort not to yell and possibly drag Val out of the hospital. "Maybe it would be better if you had a little space."

"No," Valentine said quickly. "Can everyone just step outside for a minute, I just want to talk to Backstrom for a minute," he shot an apologetic look at Peter. Everyone made their way out and Peter gave Backstrom a wide berth even as Moto and John stepped in between them, in case Backstrom tried to take any shots when Peter walked by. Backstrom closed the door, and Val sat on the bed, glad to have a minute of relief.

"If you are scared of him," Backstrom started.

Valentine held up a hand, and cut him off, "I'm not. Please. Just listen." Backstrom crossed his arms and came in close. "Before Peter, I'm aware I could count on one finger the number of people who looked out for me, and it was just you. You're a great brother," Valentine said, his hand gently brushing imaginary lint off Backstrom's shoulder. "I know you're worried, and I don't hate that you care what happens to me. I need him, especially right now."

"Why, what's the scam," Backstrom asked.

"Love," Val said with a small laugh, but he didn't meet Backstrom's eyes.

"You get tired of everything and everyone eventually."

"I'm not tired of him, or you. It's a little easier to stay invested in people when they genuinely care about you," Val said softly.

"I saw what he did," Backstrom hissed.

"You saw what someone wanted you to see. She's crazy, and I can tell you if Peter hadn't intervened, it would have been so much worse."

"He didn't even try," Backstrom said.

"You've always been good at reading situations. You're sensitive though, and you have never been able to deal with me objectively. You're wrong on this one. If it matters at all, it hurts to have to explain over and over again what happened and why I'm okay with it. I don’t want to keep saying that what happened was fine, it wasn’t, but Peter is not the one who hurt me. He was nothing more than a hammer that Natasha wielded. Would you rather I be dead? Because that was the alternative,” Val breathed, his lips quivering slightly, as he closed his eyes, a few tears escaped out of the corner of his eyes. “I never want to think about it again, but I'm not going to let you believe things that are untrue about Peter."

"I'm sorry, I want to talk about this again when you've had some time. I just want to know that you're okay. You're the only brother I don't hate," Backstrom said which was likely the closest he was going to get to love. Val nodded, and he breathed in, letting out a slow breath. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's not that, it's just things are difficult right now." Backstrom stepped in like he was going to put an arm around Val, and Val flinched, Backstorm immediately withdrew, and the hurt was radiating off of him. "I didn't mean it like that," Valentine said, reaching for Backstrom's arm. "I just don't want you to touch me."

"No, that's exactly what I thought you meant," Backstrom shrugged.

"That guy," Val said, wincing a little, as he pulled Backstrom back towards him "he I don't know anything about him and he," Val whispered, biting his lip and looking away. "So, I don't know if I'm safe, and I have cuts everywhere, I don't want anyone else to get hurt." Val kept his gaze locked on the wall, and he made no sound as a few more stray tears slid down his face.

"What do you mean, like HIV?" Backstrom asked, the wheels turning fast in his mind. Val flinched closing his eyes and putting his head down.

"I don't know, I just don't know." Backstrom stepped in and hugged him, and Valentine tensed.

"I'm not scared," Backstrom whispered. Backstrom was careful of his back, only putting an arm around his neck, more so to avoid hurting Valentine then out of fear of any transmission through bandages, several layers of clothing and the leather jacket Valentine was wearing.

Valentine's hand came up and he hugged Backstrom back tightly, he was scared, and he hadn’t realized how adrift he felt until he had someone to hold onto. "I haven't talked to Peter yet," he confessed softly, his breathing ragged, "and I'm a little scared of that."

"I could knock him out for you, buy you some time, or Moto could, you'd have weeks," Backstrom offered. Valentine laughed a little at the gesture. He wiped his eyes and pulled away.

"I'm ready to go, I'm tired. Come see me, tomorrow," Val said, shrugging.

"Deal," Backstrom said, doing an air handshake.

"I don't hate you either," Valentine whispered, and he kissed Backstrom on the head the way he had on numerous occasions when they lived on the barge. Backstrom smiled, but he quashed it quickly.

"Tomorrow." Backstrom strode out of the room, quick angry energy. The team looked at him warily. "We have a case to work," he said grumpily. "And enjoy your week off Niedermayer, but don't think you're slacking off and turning this into a Goddamn vacation," Backstorm snapped, he didn't wait for a reply, "Moto, you're with me," he waltzed down the hallway, and the team followed, except for Peter standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, seeming to hesitate in the doorway.

"Hey," Valentine said, Peter made his way in, and sat next to Valentine.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Valentine knew what he meant, but the question made him think of other things, was he okay? Would Peter be? Valentine felt frayed around the edges, and he wanted nothing more than to go home with Peter and forget everything that happened. A hand went to his back and he felt Peter start to reach up his shirt for skin to skin contact. Not unusual, but Val flinched and jumped off the bed, there were so many cuts on his back it wasn't safe. Peter seemed frozen. Valentine made his way back to him, and again held his hands, he kissed him.

"Can we talk at home?" Valentine asked, his voice shaky. Peter heard the ominous nature of the tone, and he was starting to feel a little insecure. Perhaps, Valentine was not just feeling insecure, maybe, Peter didn't let himself finish the thought.

"Of course," Peter said, and he retrieved his belongings, he and Valentine held hands, and Peter felt himself itching to get more into Valentine's space, but also wanting to honor whatever place Valentine was in. Val sure hadn't seemed to mind a hug from Backstrom. Of course Backstrom hadn't..., Peter closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. It was too difficult to think about what had happened. He wasn't going to get too emotional and have Val comforting him -again-. He wanted to be there for Valentine and Valentine deserved all the comfort and accommodation Peter could give him.

Valentine hugged him from behind, standing on his toes to kiss the back of Peter's neck, then he rested his head on Peter's back for the elevator ride. He whispered very softly "Je t’aime," Peter felt a warmth in his chest and he hadn't realized how adrift he felt. Peter felt like part of him was missing with this space between them, and he didn't feel he had the right to pursue the issue. It was difficult, like trying to hold his breath under water. He wanted to be there for Valentine, and ease whatever was troubling him, but at this point, he didn't want to force Valentine to do anything.

They took a cab home, and the car ride was relatively silent. Valentine was sitting forward in his seat, unable to lean back with his injuries. He was looking out the window, but he kept his fingers entwined with Peter's. Peter could see Valentine was nervous, distracted, avoiding, and Peter tried to just be present, and not read anything into it. The ride wasn't long, but it prevented conversation, and the further they got from the hospital, the more ominous the conversation felt.

Valentine was a strange mix of withdrawn and present, it was difficult to feel balanced. Valentine got out of his side of the car which was unusual. Valentine was normally halfway in Peter's lap during any cab ride, and they would crawl out together with Valentine grabbing and kissing and Peter trying to keep them off the pavement. Peter shook his head, it wasn't worth reading into, Valentine's back probably hurt too, and his usual back of the cab antics were probably impossible, it didn't mean anything. Unless it did.

Peter started to consider that forgiveness was probably a long shot for even the most evolved and loving human being. He felt such remorse at everything that had occurred, and especially with the last, Peter shoved the thought from his mind. There was no way to apologize for what happened. Had he really expected they would just come home and Valentine would be okay with everything? He shouldn't be.

Peter felt his chest start to tighten. Of course Valentine was a million miles away emotionally, he probably wanted to be that far way physically but his stuff was here, and of course he would talk to Peter first. Valentine, despite his demeanor with others, had a big heart. He wouldn't just walk out. Peter felt himself slowing as they approached the apartment, he felt such a sense of dread to be alone with Valentine, what if, Peter wouldn't let that thought finish either. He unlocked the door, and the bolt sounded unusually loud. When he entered, he noticed the place had been cleaned up. Likely the police had been all over it, and someone had thought to right everything. Peter hadn't even considered what it might look like given that they were abducted from here.

Peter didn't know what to do once he got inside, the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom? He didn't know where to go. Valentine seemed on auto pilot and made his way to the bedroom, and Peter followed behind, his arms crossed over his chest. He wanted to keep himself together.

Val sat on the bed, and started to pull his shoes off, but it was clear bending over was difficult, so Peter instinctively kneeled in front of him, and helped him pull them off, along with the socks. Valentine seemed relieved Peter used the excuse to gently rub Valentine's feet, enjoying any skin to skin at this point. Valentine moaned appreciatively, and Peter made a mental list: hands okay, kissing okay, feet okay.

"Valentine," and Peter wasn't sure what he was going to say, ‘sorry’ sounded so inadequate. He didn't want to ask if Valentine was okay again especially when it was clear he was not, but he did want to break the silence. He trailed off and just shook his head.

"Would you lay down with me?" Valentine asked, and Peter barely kept himself from springing to his feet and jumping into bed. He managed to use a bit of grace to get in beside Valentine who was watching him intently. He laid on his side facing Val, one hand tucked under his head, the other, touching the space between them. He itched to touch Valentine, hug him, kiss him, just to hold him, and reassure himself that Valentine was here with him. Val was also laying on his arm, his fingers drifted out to Peter's hand and touched it, Peter leaned into kiss him, letting his hand drift to Valentine's face, stroking the stubble he found there, he deepened the kiss and stopped himself from pushing Valentine onto his back, and instead moved closer so that Valentine could hover over him. Val kissed, deeply, passionately, his mouth and tongue taking time to explore territory it knew already, Peter felt comforted, loved, and Valentine was stroking his shoulder and chest with his free hand. He stopped slowly, withdrawing, looking down at Peter. Peter held his hand and smiled.

"I love you," Peter said, breathing out, some of the ice in his chest starting to melt. The cold sense of dread was dissipating under Val's touch. Val nodded.

"Peter, I want to talk to you about something and it's difficult to," Valentine started to trail off.

"You can say anything to me," Peter encouraged, "even if you need to get something off your chest about what happened," Peter offered, and he swallowed hard. He braced himself, anything Valentine wanted to say he was prepared to accept responsibility for, and to offer whatever apologies and amends were within his abilities.

"I don't, Peter," Val said closing his eyes briefly, and taking a long breath. "We'll come back to my thing, first," he said, his hand on Peter's cheek. "I meant it, I'm not mad at you, and I don't blame you for anything that happened. I want you to trust me that there was nothing you could have done better." Val's confident and sincere answer hurt Peter deep in his soul. Peter wasn't quite ready to forgive himself yet, and Val's ready dismissal of Peter's actions was difficult. Peter wanted to attack the person who had hurt Valentine, but what did you do when you were the person?

"I," Peter started, "I'm not there yet, I hurt you," Peter said, he focused on not letting his voice crack or allowing tears to surface, he did not want Valentine to comfort him, he wanted to comfort Valentine, to atone in some way for the hurt he caused. Valentine nodded.

"I just want you to know how I feel. I'm not mad at you at all."

"How can you not be?" Peter asked, and he did wince then, remembering the feel of the whip in his hand, hearing in his own mind Valentine crying out.

"I've had an adventurous life," Valentine shrugged.

"I wish I could just," Peter closed his eyes and sighed. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

Val licked his lips nervously, and watched a spot on the bed between them. "I'm not sure how much you've thought about a relationship with a man," Valentine started.

"I mean, I'll need more context, I obviously, think about you a lot."

"No, I mean, the dynamics of being gay," Valentine hedged.

"I don't know that I understand."

"We used condoms for the first few months until we could be tested if we were going to be monogamous and not use condoms," Valentine explained slowly, looking at Peter expectantly.

"I remember," Peter nodded.

"We are just at higher risk for certain things," Valentine explained.

"I know, which is why we decided on testing and monogamy," Peter shrugged. Valentine nodded.

"Yes, but we haven't been," Valentine said softly, he looked down, but then watched Peter again.

"I don't think of what happened as not monogamy," Peter said quickly.

"Well, STDs may not agree with your stance," Valentine said slowly, "that guy didn't," Valentine flinched for a moment, "didn't use anything." Valentine finished, his eyes fluttering open to watch Peter. Peter closed his eyes and shook his head. He hadn't been thinking about it. A whole new sense of dread settled in his stomach, what if something happened to Valentine? Why the hell didn’t he just finish…?

"Wait, is that why you don't want me to touch you?" Peter asked, his eyes shooting open, his hand going to Val’s face.

"Yes," Valentine said, "I have open wounds on my back. Peter wrapped his arms around Valentine, not quite his back but his neck and lower back where he knew there was no injury, the last thing he wanted to do was press on any of the wounds and injure Valentine, but he wanted Valentine to know he cared.

"I'm sorry, I was being stupid," Peter said, close to his ear. "I don't, I'm not, I want to hold you no matter what. I'm not worried."

"I need you to worry," Valentine said, his voice sounded stricken, "I need you to be careful until I get through testing and the medication."

"Are you taking the post exposure medicine?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Val said nodding, "It's 28 days and the side effects are pretty awful, but if we get through all of that, and things stay clear we can go back to," Valentine smirked, "the way it was, if you want to," Valentine finished softly.

"I want to very much, and I'm so sorry I wasn't thinking about that," Peter felt tears at his eyes then, if only he had, "I should have, not let that happen, I just couldn't, I'm so sorry," Peter rushed out, but Valentine used a finger to turn Peter's jaw to face him.

"You don't have to be sorry."

"I let you down, you were trying to, and I just couldn't."

Valentine nodded. "I wish it had been you and me for a variety of reasons, but it is really difficult to be upset that you couldn't orgasm at the thought of hurting me I mean, the situation was just fucked up, and if you could have finished I wouldn't have been mad," Val paused, seeming to think about his words, "but, I'm not going to get mad because you don't get off on hurting me," Valentine explained. "It's just really difficult to be pissed about that."

"Well, I mean, obviously I could," Peter said, thinking of the first time when Val was drugged, hearing Val's soft pleas for him to stop.

"Don't do that," Valentine said softly, touching his face. "She’s responsible for everything that happened. She wanted to make you feel this way. She's fucking with you," Val took a deep breath, "I know, I emphasize that we don't have to tell each other the truth, we just have to trust each other, but I want you to know the truth and trust me when I say it, I don't blame you for any of it at all, in any way." Peter tried to maintain eye contact but he couldn't look Valentine in the eye, he didn't know how he felt except responsible, it was difficult to put into words or to brush off. The upside to knowing when Valentine was telling the truth, is that Valentine really believed what he said, that didn't make it true, but at least Valentine felt that way.

"It's difficult, that it feels like you have all of the consequences for something I did. I was barely hurt," Peter said, his chest feeling tight. Val ran a finger down Peter's bandaged wrist.

"Not barely, you did almost die," Valentine said softly, a hint of fear in his voice, “and I know better than most,” Val said, his eyebrows arching a small tear slid down his face, “how deep psychological injuries can be, the ones no one can see.”

"I think you know what I mean."

"If the situation was reversed, I don't know what I would have done," Valentine shrugged, "we did the best we could."

"I don't believe you," Peter said softly, without accusation, "you always seem to find a way to get through whatever you have to, and protect the people you care about."

"It's not a very marketable skill," Val shrugged, smirking, "I mean it's not like I went to college for it, well maybe a little, but not on purpose." Peter buried his head in Val's chest. He wanted to chastise Val for making jokes about the dean sexually assaulting Valentine during his first brief stint attending a college campus, but Val had every right to do what he needed too.

"You're amazing," Peter said instead, "I can't believe how lucky I am," he said instead, stroking Val's cheek and kissing him. Val leaned into the kiss, sighing contentedly.

"I told you, you could be lucky and have me too," Val said referencing a long ago car ride. Peter smiled.

"I'm scared," Peter said and he hadn't realized he was going to say it out loud, but looking into Valentine's eyes, and feeling uncertain, it just came out. Val leaned in further, resting his arm on Peter's chest and his head on top of his arm so that he could look up into Peter's eyes.

"About what?" Val asked.

Peter thought for a moment where was the feeling coming from? "of the space between us, it seemed like we were really good, and we've come so far, and this is hanging over us, and I don't know if I can support you," Peter rambled.

"You don't have to," Val said, withdrawing, "it's my problem and Backstrom said I could stay at the barge," Val started to ramble, and Peter could see the hurt, but Valentine pushed it down.

"No, no," Peter said, shaking his head, his hands coming to rest on Valentine's arms. "Not if I want to, if I can, I'm not sure I know how, and I want to fix it, or make amends, or make it better somehow. I'm afraid you won't feel supported and this is our problem, not your problem. I'm afraid that my effort won't feel good enough, I don't want to fail at supporting you and making you feel better, I don't want to let you down again," Peter finished, and there was a definite hint of tears in his voice.

Valentine watched him for a few moments. "Just being here with you makes it better," Valentine confessed.

"I feel like I need to atone, and I know you don't feel that way, but I do."

"I mean it, no one has ever stayed with me at the hospital before. Or been there afterwards. Even at the worst of it, you held my hand, I knew you were there for me," Val sucked in a sharp breath.

"That doesn't feel like enough," Peter shrugged, "I'm glad it helps, I'm going to be here, no matter what. I just want to do more."

"Sometimes, time is what fixes things. There would probably be more to do if I blamed you, but I don't. I appreciate everything you did," Val touched Peter's wrist, "everything. You were not only willing to die for me, you cut yourself to try and protect me. Peter you did everything you could."

“You're so," Peter struggled for a word, "you're just, so, clever, and smart, and thoughtful and tough, fierce," Peter explained. Valentine laughed.

"That is not where I thought the conversation was going," he said, "tough? Really? Thoughtful?" Val laughed more. "That's how I would describe you," Val sighed.

"I feel very inadequate around you," Peter confessed, his hands stroking anywhere he thought wouldn't cause pain.

"I find you very adequate, beyond adequate even," Val said smiling, his eyes going wide with laughter.

"You're laughing at me," Peter accused lightly.

"A little, just look at you. Smart, successful, great job helping people no less, you're a hero," Val said. "Trust me, when people do pinups they might want to look like me," Val said rolling his eyes and smiling, "but they want your life. They want to be like you."

"Then they're stupid, because you're so much more than all of that." Val ducked his head, resting his cheek against Peter's chest, listening to his breathing, and the sound of his heart. They lay together quietly, the silence not so oppressive. Peter revelled in the feel of Valentine in his arms. "Je t'aime," Peter whispered.

"Je t'aime," Val whispered back softly.

"We should rest, but before we do, what's the process, how long do we need to wait for results?" Peter asked, he felt Val stiffen.

"I finish the medication in 28 days, typical testing is 3 months, but there's another test that's more accurate, and expensive that I can take at 4 weeks. They took blood, but it takes a few days before it would show anyway, but they have a baseline and can test for other stuff," Val sounded monotone in his explanation.

"We can get the expensive test," Peter offered. Val nodded. "So this part could be over in a month?" Peter said wistfully, "I thought it was longer." Val shrugged, and winced. "We don't have to talk about it," Peter offered.

"I have a headache," Val said, and he rubbed his temples. Peter started to massage Val's temples.

"You feel warm too," he noted.

"Side effect," Val said, moving to his side.

"Can you take anything?"

"Over the counter stuff will be fine," Val said. Peter went to the bathroom, and retrieved headache medication and water. At least he could do something to help. Not that he wanted Valentine to be in pain, but it was nice to be able to help. "Here," Peter said, helping him sip. "You should probably rest."

"We should probably rest," Valentine returned. "We need to figure out sleeping arrangements."

"Here, together," Peter said firmly. Valentine sighed.

"I don't want to risk," Valentine trailed off.

"okay," Peter nodded. "I do know about medical issues, infections, diseases, proper care and treatment. We just have to be careful of blood and bodily fluids. So I'll check your bandages, and then a shirt should be plenty of barrier for now," Peter explained.

Val nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Peter confirmed.

"You'll wear gloves when you check?"

"Yes," Peter affirmed.

"Okay, but I'm going to ask the doctor tomorrow to be sure."

"Okay," Peter agreed.

Peter retrieved gloves from the closet, as a forensic examiner he actually had gloves stashed all over in case he had to look at evidence. Peter checked and secured the bandages. He got Valentine the sleeping and pain medication Livingston had prescribed, and then curled up beside Valentine facing him. Peter traced lines on Val's face, and Valentine eventually maneuvered over, resting his head on Peter's chest and falling asleep.

After Valentine fell asleep in his arms, Peter stayed up reading about precautions, medication and testing. He read journal articles, about risks, precautions, and care. Not that he had any intentions that were imminent but he read about sex after a sexual assault and safe sex practices during testing periods of potential exposure. He wanted to alleviate all of Valentine's concerns, and make sure he was in a position to provide as much care as possible. He also browsed through the 1in 6 org website, he wanted to be as supportive as possible. Peter rubbed his eyes, and looked down at Valentine still sleeping, snoring softly beside him. They were out of nose bras, but Peter found the sound comforting. Peter let his hand drift to Val's hip, kissed the top of his head, and then leaned back closing his own eyes.

Peter fell asleep content, but nightmares plagued his rest. During the day he could shut down all the memories and thoughts that haunted him, but his subconscious wasn't done processing the information, and he relived the worst parts, trying to change what happened, but feeling powerless as he hurt Valentine and Natasha laughed in his ear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are good, comments are better.


	6. The Brakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you lose control, it's tempting to fight against the current, but sometimes you just have to pump the brakes and reevaluate. 
> 
> This wraps up the story. Again, I was completely done editing, but I'm not about to lose another 40 pages of work. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and mistakes don't distract you. I'd love feedback or comments. 
> 
> Valentine and Peter deal with the continued aftermath of crazy that was Natasha. They manage her intentional and unintentional infliction of pain. They have to try to navigate a relationship when trust has been challenged and hurt has happened. Love is easy when it's easy, but when the going gets tough, choices are made. How much is too much, and how deeply can you love another human being.

Peter woke with a start in the dark room, he felt his chest and Valentine was gone. He started searching the bed next to him, and it was just cold mattress. He felt paralyzed for a moment trapped between sleep and wakefulness, was Valentine okay? Was he gone? Peter got out of bed and focused on calming his breathing, it was just a dream, Valentine was okay, but he wasn't in bed. Peter padded through the bedroom, and checked the adjoining bathroom, Valentine wasn't there. Peter began searching the rest of the apartment, as he came down the hallway, he saw the light from under the bathroom door, he went over and opened the door. Valentine was there, curled in a ball, shivering, his head resting on the bathtub. "Val!" He said, a quick intake of breath as he rushed to kneel beside him.

"It's okay," Val said, as Peter put a hand on Val’s shoulder. 

"What happened?"

"Just dizzy and," Val said, but he didn't have to finish, Peter could tell nausea had gotten the better of him. Peter noted Valentine's toothbrush on the floor beside him, and doubted Val had been cleaning the tile. 

"Are you okay now?" Peter asked, his hands resting on Val’s neck and shoulder, stroking gently

"I think I'll stay here awhile," Val shrugged, his eyes closed. Peter felt Valentine's forehead, and then he disappeared. 

Val lay against the tub, willing the dizziness to go away. He'd taken the medication once before but quit after a few days, it was miserable. He had no intention of quitting this time, he was going to finish. He kept his cheek pressed against the tub, it was cool and it felt good as his body cycled between chills and hot flashes. He hoped Peter had gone back to bed, it was embarrassing and every consequence of what happened forced the memories to the forefront of his mind. It felt good to be with Peter, he felt less adrift, but how much could any one person give? Val couldn’t believe he was sticking around at all given the circumstances. Val vaguely wondered if he’d risk it if the roles were reversed. Val heard footsteps and opened his eyes, Peter was there with blankets and pillows. 

"What are you doing?" Val asked, as Peter started putting the linens down on the floor.

"Just trying to make it more comfortable," Peter said, putting down the pillows. Val was grateful and he did feel lucky all over again. He put one hand on Peter's arm, and held it for a minute.

"Thanks," Val said, dropping his head to the pillow, he curled on his side, it was definitely nicer with the pillow, but he missed the cool feel of the tub. He heard water in the distance, and then there was a cool cloth on his face. "That feels nice, thank you," Val murmured. 

"Light on or off?" Peter asked. Peter flicked it off when Val waved his hand. Val sighed contentedly, he was warmer, cooler and more comfortable. Boyfriends weren't all bad. Then, he felt Peter drop down beside him.

"What are you doing?" Val asked over his shoulder.

"Laying here," Peter said sounding confused. Val turned over, and could see Peter's outline in the dim shadows of the room. 

"You want to sleep in the bathroom?" Val asked.

"No, I want to sleep with you, wherever that is," Peter said, kissing his jawline, his hand drifting along Val's side, through his hair down to his hip, resting there, his fingers lightly massaging. 

"I, um I don't think," Val said swallowing softly, "I can't," Val shook his head as Peter watched. 

"I'm not trying to have sex with you Valentine, I just want to be near you," Peter smiled and kissed the back of his head. Val leaned in closer, relieved, and sad. He thought he might feel a little better if Peter and he could connect that way, but where the mind might be willing the body definitely was not.

"I could," Val offered, his hand drifting down Peter's chest, but Peter caught his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing from wrist to palm.

"I couldn't," Peter confessed, "I really just want to be near you, and definitely that later, but not now." Val nodded and smiled. He could have, he could always provide sex in some form or another, but he was grateful to not, he was so tired, and the room was spinning. Val felt a very different warmth spreading through him. He'd once told Backstrom no one had ever looked at him with so much love as the bogeyman had, and that wasn't true anymore. Val squeezed Peter, he needed an outlet for the bubbling of emotions trying to surface. He felt so cared for and it felt foreign and exhilarating and terrifying. Peter really was a great boyfriend in so many ways. Val drifted off to sleep wondering how he got so lucky, and small nagging voice telling him it wouldn't last. 

***

Backstrom made it to the apartment around noon, blurry eyed, looking like he just woke up. "I thought you quit drinking," Val observed from his position on the couch, he was laying on his stomach, and had been dozing lightly when Peter had let Backstrom in. 

"I thought you quit drugs," Backstrom shot back taking in Valentine's ragged appearance. 

"Only the fun ones," Val muttered, laying his head back down on the couch. Backstrom took the easy chair next to him.

"Where did Noodlemayer go?" Backstrom asked, looking around. 

"Shower," Val mumbled. Valentine could feel the nervous energy coming from Backstrom. Val could feel him suppressing the urge to interrogate. 

"Everything ok?" Backstrom asked uncomfortably. 

"Yeah, he's been great," Val said turning his head so he could see Backstrom. 

"I watched the tape again," Backstrom said out loud, but Val wasn't entirely sure the conversation was directed at him as much as Backstrom was working out something in his own mind out loud. 

"Why?" Valentine groaned.

"It's evidence, and my job," Backstrom said off handed. Backstrom fell silent. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I really don't want to talk about this," Valentine groaned. 

Backstrom leaned in close, "Valentine, I need you to tell me if you remember anything, or if you have any doubts about Peter's intentions." 

"I saw the tape," Valentine said, "but I don't have any memories of it and I don't have any doubts about Peter," Valentine snapped as his request to not discuss this issue was ignored, but what did he really expect from Backstrom?

"The Chief is making him take a medical and psychological fit for duty exam," Backstrom breathed out. 

"Why?" Valentine asked, his brows furrowing. 

"They are going to evaluate him based on the tape, and of course the slitting his own wrist. That woman," Backstrom said referring to Natasha, "has put forth a lot of doubt about Peter's role, objectively," Backstrom said holding up his hands as Val shot up, anger in his demeanor. "The chief has to investigate it and clear him, we can’t just wipe it away because he’s a fellow officer, and your boyfriend." Valentine was seething, it was just never ending. "Peter also attempted suicide if his version of events is accurate, and he is the victim of sexual assault as well." 

"I never said I was sexually assaulted," Peter said from the doorway drying his hair, looking between Valentine and Backstrom. 

"In your statement, you told the officer that you were forced to have sex with Valentine," Backstrom reminded him.

"I was," Peter said, "but it was with Valentine." Backstrom and Valentine exchanged a look. 

"In any case," Backstrom continued, "you're going to have to meet with Dr. Deb and the psychologist, before you can return to duty. You'll have an attorney and a union rep." Peter stood next to Valentine. 

"The prosecutor wants to talk to you," he said eyeing Valentine.

"About Natasha?" Val asked with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"About pursuing charges against all of them," Backstrom said, pointing to include Peter. 

"Why, I’ve already given my statement," Valentine argued. Peter stood stiffly his face paling. 

“Fuck off and leave me alone is not a helpful statement,” Backstrom said rolling his eyes. 

“They have the kit,” Val said softly.

“Which does nothing to absolve Peter,” Backstrom said, “his DNA is in there with the others.” 

“Everything will be okay,” Peter said softly, dropping a kiss on Valentine’s forehead.

"Ugh! wait for me to leave," Backstrom groaned, he got up and went to the bathroom. "Jesus did you guys have sex in here, pervs!" He yelled obviously having discovered their pillows and blankets in the main bathroom. Val rolled his eyes, he pulled Peter into him and kissed him, noting the far away look in Peter’s eyes. 

"What?" Valentine asked, his fingers tracing Peter's jaw line as Val settled back against the couch.

"I just didn't think about work, or what might happen there. It doesn't matter," Peter said, shaking his head, his hand drifting to cup Valentine's face. “I should get dressed.” 

"Gross," Backstrom said returning to the room. Peter and Val shared a smile.

"Thanks for the heads up," Peter said softly.

"I was helping Valentine," Backstrom corrected. Peter sighed, he stood heading to the bedroom. 

"You know," Backstrom said leaning in, "Peter has always admired me and tried to be friends."

"Yeah," Val said.

"You ever think he's with you because you're my brother, it's like being with me."

"No, do you?" Valentine asked making a face. Backstrom shrugged. 

"If you ever want to come back to the Barge, even just for a night, you can." 

"I know." 

"But not with him."

"I know," Val said nodding, and laughing. Backstrom stood, and leaned down, and Val dutifully kissed his head. 

"Stop it queer," Backstrom admonished with a smile.

Peter came back with tea, "it helps with nausea," he said handing it to Valentine. 

"Want me to pull my gun on him?" Backstrom offered. Val laughed into his cup, and took a sip as Peter showed Backstrom out.

***

Alistar Bradshaw, Peter’s attorney, sat with Valentine and he looked unhappy. 

“I feel like you’re not telling me something,” Valentine sighed, pulling his legs onto the couch. Alistar had come by at Valentine’s request and with Peter’s consent. Val had hedged his reason for meeting alone with the attorney. Val suggested he wanted to ask some things he was uncomfortable having Peter present for, which was mostly true. It was just that the things Valentine wanted to ask about is whatever it was Peter was holding back. When Peter gave the run down of his case, he seemed to be hiding something. Valentine knew it was about him, and Peter would never tell him if he thought Valentine would get hurt. 

“Your boyfriend is potentially in a lot of trouble, and he doesn’t want me to ask you any hard questions. But the other side is going to,” Alistar answered, with a shrug.

“Just ask,” Valentine offered, “whatever it takes to keep Peter safe.”

“It might be painful, and I was given strict instructions not to upset you,” Alistar offered, looking eager to ask, but putting up a token protest.

“Are your questions going to upset me more than it would upset me if Peter lost his job or went to jail?” Val shot back. Alistar smiled and crossed his arms. “Just go,” Val said leaning back. 

Alistar pulled out a notepad with notes on it. "Mr. Valentine I'm just trying to understand your statement, you told the forensic examiner that you had consensual sex with Officer Niedermayer, but you're claiming it was also rape. I just need you to pick a lane."

"Are you serious?" Val spat. 

"I reviewed your kit from the forensic examiner, and subpoenaed the other kits and statements you've made to the police. There are a lot of inconsistencies in your statements now and over the years. Ms. Faydrick indicates that she paid you, and that Peter was a willing participant."

"That’s wait, what question do you want me to answer?" Val asked as the information went by in a blur.

"Did Ms. Faydrick pay you to have sex with her and participate in BDSM?"

"No!" Val spat.

"Interesting," I have a statement from Ms. Faydrick, she indicates that Ms. Faydrick and her deceased partner were clients of yours. Did you ever provide sex, sexual favors, or participate in BDSM sessions with Ms. Faydrick and her partner in exchange for money?" 

"Not really," Valentine said shaking his head, "I covered for someone else. But I thought you meant," Alistar cut him off.

"So you did willingly participate in sexual intercourse and BDSM with Ms Faydrick in the past?" 

"Yes," 

"But not now?"

"No."

"What about with Officer Niedermayer?"

"What about him?"

“You guys participate in BDSM?”

“Peter and I don’t do that.”

"But you do have consensual sex with Officer Niedermayer?"

"Yes, but not there."

"So he did force you to have sex with him?"

"No, she did," Val explained, “it’s complicated, you can’t just ask me yes or no questions.” 

"You're aware on the tape, Ms. Faydrick is heard telling Peter to leave you alone?"

"Yes, but she threatened him off camera."

"How do you know this, did you hear it?"

"No."

"Do you remember it? Your statement earlier indicated you didn't remember."

"No, I don’t remember anything."

"So how do you know?"

"Peter told me."

"So, Peter, we see him forcing you on camera, Ms. Faydrick intervening, and yet, the person who raped you said someone had threatened him? He orgasmed didn't he? Is it fair to say he enjoyed it?"

"No!" Valentine snapped, he felt ill, everything was twisted, he couldn't, what the guy was saying was wrong. 

"Mr. Valentine, I'm asking very simple questions, and I understand you want to protect your boyfriend's job. Let's circle around to that, what do you do for a living."

"I'm going to school," Val breathed our, relieved to have an easier question. He was starting to feel his heart race, and images from that time were assaulting, him it was hard to keep things straight.

"How do you pay your rent?"

"I don't."

"Who does?"

"Peter." 

"So, if he lost his job, if you testified against him, you could lose your home?"

"No, that's not what is happening, and besides Peter has a lot of money."

“Enough to keep a full-time live-in prostitute?” Alistar asked softly. Valentine recoiled.

“No!”

“Are you sure? I’ve seen his finances, and he has lots of money, I think he could keep a full time prostitute,” Alistar remarked.

“Yes, fine, he could, but he’s not, I’m not,” Valentine argued. 

"Mr. Valentine, I don't blame you. You have a skill set, and it seems you've never stopped, just moved up in the world. Why did Officer Niedermayer give you fifty thousand dollars?"

"Wait, I’m not anymore, and Peter didn't give it to me," Val seethed.

"You're on the account?'

"Yes, but" 

"That must have been some blow job.”

“It was not,” Val defended, “it wasn’t payment.”

“But you do give him blowjobs?” Alistar asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“No, yes, I mean, of course,’ Valentine struggled. 

“Who hit you?”

“One of Natasha’s henchmen hit me.” 

“Not Peter?” he asked.

“No. Well yes, but just once because I told him to,” Valentine explained in exasperation.

“Here?” Alistar asked.

“No, not here, there, when Natasha made him.”

“I thought you said you asked him to hit you.”

“No, I told him it was okay,” Valentine explained.

“So you were fine with rough sex and hitting, as long as Peter was doing it?”

“No, yes, listen, she was threatening,” Valentine tried to explain, but the questions were coming very rapidly, and then he was switching topics. 

“So you asked him to hit you, you wanted him to hit you?”

“No, I didn’t want to die, and one way to keep Natasha from murdering us was to have Peter hurt me.”

“According to you.” 

“According to her.”

“Ms. Faydrick fully admits to participating in rough sex, and BDSM. She denies that she assaulted you or Peter. Uruk Skariszar, indicates you and he had consensual albiet rough sex, and you invited him to join you and Peter. Henri Vasher, and Alexy Martian corroborate this version of events. They said you flirted with Uruk and Natasha.”

Val clenched and unclenched his fists. “In fact, they indicate, you had a sexual breakfast with them, and then you drugged them.” Val squirmed uncomfortably. The way this was tied together, it sounded very bad. 

“Can you slow down, you’re confusing me,” Valentine said, rubbing his head.

“If you’re telling the truth it shouldn’t be confusing, but you seem to go back and forth,” Alistart noted with a disapproving tone.

“I’m not, you’re questions are,” Val tried to explain. 

"I think you understand how the other side is going to play this. They intend to humiliate you in Court. You're a liar, a thief and a hustler. Not the best witness," Alistar said it somewhat more kindly then the rest of his questioning. Val closed his eyes, nothing more fun than being psychologically, and emotionally violated by an attorney.

“What can I do?” Valentine asked, his hands covering his mouth. “Can I just refuse to testify?” 

“Even if you don’t testify the tape is damaging. We can take our chances in Court, but Peter won’t let me bring up anything that might hurt you. I can’t adequately defend him,” Val hugged his own chest, his skin was crawling. “But there is a deal on the table,” Alistar said hesitantly, watching Valentine with narrowed sharp eyes. 

“What’s the deal?” Val asked.

“Natasha’s side has offered to plead guilty to a lesser charge of assault, if you agree not to testify against them. She has also offered to give a statement absolving Peter of any wrongdoing, so he can keep his job. Natasha and Uruk likely wouldn’t face much, if any, jail time. You have to testify on her, and her team’s behalf though.” Val felt tears stinging his eyes. 

“So I have to say it was consensual?” Val asked, swallowing hard. “Or they’ll destroy Peter.”

“Essentially,” Alistar confirmed. “But Peter won’t consider the deal.” Val licked his lips. Of course Val would do it to protect Peter, it was no wonder Peter hadn’t presented this information to him. 

“Take the deal, but I want Peter completely off the hook,” Val offered. 

“Maybe you should take some time to consider,” Alistar said, without much effort to be convincing. 

“I’ll take it,” Val said more firmly. 

“I can’t accept the deal, for you. You will have to get an attorney to do it for you since I represent Peter, and Peter is adamant that he won’t take the deal.” Alistar handed over a card with another attorney’s name on it. “I’ve worked with him before, and he’s a good guy.” 

“Thanks,” Val said, taking the card. 

“One last thing,” Alistar said. “Natasha asked me to give this to you.” He handed over an envelope. Val held it between his fingers, and then tucked the envelope in his pocket.

“What about Peter?” Alistar asked.

“I’ll deal with that,” Val said. Alistar shook his hand leaving in a considerably better mood then when he arrived. Val showed him out, and then picked up the envelope, he knew whatever was inside was likely unpleasant, and cruel, but he wasn’t afraid of her or any ugly notes she might have written. Knowing her, it probably just said something along the lines of checkmate. She didn’t have the ability to harm him outside of her attack on Peter. 

Val wandered to the living room, and dropped on the couch, opening the envelope, bracing himself for some compromising picture, or hate filled crazy note. He read the document, and his heart squeezed painfully. He was a little wrong about her ability to inflict pain, he curled onto the sofa, the sound in the room seemed distant. He stared absently in front of him, he remembered to breath several seconds later. No she was really good at causing pain, tears feel freely now as the contents of the note sunk in. Valentine’s skin crawled, he felt separate from himself. He held the paper to his chest, and mentally began packing his bags. He couldn’t stay, he wouldn't stay. His heart ached, and he couldn’t make himself small enough. He should have known she’d have a back up plan, so way to fuck with them even from jail. 

***

Val packed all of his things. It wasn’t a lot, he didn’t have a lot anyway. He sucked in a shuddering breath. Peter wouldn’t understand, he was in love and love made people do stupid things. Val sat on the closet floor holding one of Peter’s sweaters, breathing in the scent. Val tucked the sweater into his bag, Peter likely wouldn't miss it, and “if he does,” Val said out loud to the room, “shame on him for trusting a thief and a whore,” Val winced at the sound of his own voice. “That combination doesn’t lend itself to happy endings,” Val whispered, letting his fingers drift along Peter’s clothing as he went into the bedroom. 

Val grabbed his bags and left Peter’s credit and debit cards in the top drawer. He scrawled a quick note, ‘Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form,’ - Rumi. Val smiled, thinking it was appropriate for things to end as they had begun. 

Val put his bags in the taxi and paid in cash. He watched the lights flick by as he entered the port. He carried his two bags down the ramp towards the barge. He’d walked this path many times. One time under gunfire. Val didn’t knock, he just entered, and he found Backstrom, sitting in his favorite chair. They made eye contact, and Backstom glanced at the bags, but made no comment. Val dropped them on the floor, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. 

Val moved his chair to the spot next to Backstrom, and they watched his old television. They didn’t speak. Val could feel Backstrom watching him, but he wouldn’t ask. He could also see Backstrom was happy to have him at the barge. 

The television picture faded and changed, scrolling with poor reception. 

“I was about to turn your room into a sex dungeon,” Backstrom remarked, swalling more beer. 

“Not a lot of remodeling required,” Val answered. 

“Does your boyfriend know you're out this late?”

“How long have you known me? I don’t do boyfriends,” Val said sarcastically, but a little sadness may have colored his statement.

“So,” Backstrom said. Valentine handed him the slip of paper. Backstrom read it and made a pained face. 

“Care if I stay?” Val asked, his voice breaking a little, “given the circumstances.”

“I’m your brother, I guess you can stay until you find something,” Backstrom offered. Val nodded letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“You’ll have to wait on me hand and foot,” Val smirked, trying to push the pain away, his eyes fixed on the television, as a small tear slid down. 

“I doubt it,” Backstrom breathed out, crumpling the paper. Val’s eyes slid shut, as he sipped his beer. 

“This is familiar, yeah?” Val asked, “I fuck everything up, and you take me in.”

“You didn’t fuck everything up,” Backstrom sighed, “what did Peter say?”

“I didn’t tell him, you know what he would say. He would do anything for me.” 

“So why not let him? I thought getting people to do things for you was your whole aim in life?” Backstrom queried. 

Valentine sighed and bit his lip. “I don’t want to watch him go through that,” Valentine sighed, “because I love him too.” Val confessed, picking at his beer label before taking another swallow. Val kept his face forward, but he felt slow tears start to escape down his face, he was certain Backstrom noticed because he leaned forward, and then back quickly, nursing his own beer. Backstrom wouldn’t want to deal with emotions, and certainly not ones that involved Peter. Val finished his beer, and went to his room, and closed the door. He took a deep breath, it was comforting and disorientating to be back in his old room. 

He crawled onto the bed, like he had done so many years ago for the first time. He’d been in excruciating pain then, but more physical. Val hadn’t even known he could experience this depth of emotional pain. Which was a great reason not to let people close. Val lay on his stomach, and he swallowed his medication and hoped sleep would take him soon. The boat gently rocked, soothing him, he hadn’t realized he’d gotten used to it or that it felt strange to not be swaying. Val fished Peter’s sweater out of his bag, pulled it on, and curled into a ball, breathing in the scent. He was so stupid.

****

Backstrom sat on the deck of his boat, drinking beer. Peter watched him as he approached. He was surprised to find Valentine’s things gone, and he knew exactly where Val would run to. He just didn’t know what Val was running from. Peter replayed the morning in his mind, trying to figure out if he had done or said anything. It seemed normal. 

Backstrom nodded in greeting, and Peter sat next to him. What Peter hadn’t expected was a call from Backstrom telling him to come get his boyfriend. Backstrom had lobbied during their entire relationship, and much more recently for Valentine to move back into the barge with him. That Backstrom would help Peter at all seemed backwards. 

“Thanks for calling,” Peter said. Backstrom grunted. “Do you know why he’s here?” Backstorm nodded. “Did I do something?” 

“Yes,” Backstrom said. Peter felt his throat ache at the thought.

“Can you tell me what?” Peter asked, his voice breaking over the last part. Backstorm rolled his eyes.

“You loved him,” Backstrom sighed looking uncomfortable.

“That doesn’t seem so awful,” Peter said in a monotone. Backstorm handed over the crumpled paper. Peter read it, and then reread it. They were positive HIV results for Uruk Skariszar. Peter licked his lips, “just because he is, doesn’t mean Val is,” Peter said, but he wasn’t sure if he was talking to Backstorm or himself. 

“But he might be,” Backstrom said, “and he knows it.”

“I said I’d take care of him, what difference does this make?” Peter asked.

“He doesn’t want to be a burden to you,” Backstrom explained softly.

“But he’s fine with burdening you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does he know you called me?”

“No.”

“How do I fix this?”

Backstrom laughed and drank his beer. “You’re not asking me for relationship advice?”

“I’m not, I”m asking you for Valentine advice,” Peter clarified. “Nobody knows him better.” Backstrom seemed to think that over.

“Just keep being you, he’s just scared,” Backstrom said rolling his eyes. 

“Can I see him?”

“He’s sleeping.”

“Is that a no?”

“If you have eyes, you can’t miss him,” Backstrom snorted. “If I hear one sexual sound coming from that room,” Backstrom threatened, tapping the gun in his holster. 

Peter made his way down the steps, as Backstrom continued smoking on the deck. He had such a sense of dread as he approached the room. He could understand why Valentine left, of course he did. Valentine always protected the people he loved, even if it cost him. Peter slid the door open, and saw Valentine on the bed. He walked over, looking down Valentine looked younger, more vulnerable. Peter saw Valentine had put on one of his sweaters, and he felt more confident. 

Peter knelt by the bed, his hand stroking Valentine’s cheek. It didn’t matter what the results were, Peter loved him, he was staying. Val could leave, and that made Peter’s chest ache, like someone was squeezing his heart. Peter had made his decision and Valentine would have to make his own, but Peter wanted to at least try to convince him. 

Peter crawled into the bed, pulling Valentine to his chest, Val fell into his usual spot, his body moving in rhythm to Peter. They fit, they always had. Valentine had invaded his space and had taken pieces of his heart. Peter couldn’t shake them loose, and he wasn’t giving up without a fight.

“Peter,” Val moaned softly, lovingly in his sleep. Peter kissed his cheek.

“I’m here,” he murmured. 

“Can’t be, Backstrom wouldn’t let you on the boat,” Val rationalized. 

“But he did,” Peter whispered.

“Shh, don’t wake me up, nice dream,” Val murmured, his hands tucked against Peter’s chest, his face in the crook of Peter’s neck and shoulder. Peter held him, stroking him, soothing him. Peter wasn’t sure how long had passed, but Val was breaking out into a cold sweat, and starting to moan in bed. Peter looked, saw a trash bin, and brought it over. Val sat up in bed, his face pale, and Peter held the bin out while Val relieved the contents of his stomach. 

Val was panting slightly, and Peter took the bin and emptied it, rinsed it and brought back a cold cloth. Peter pressed it to Val’s forehead and gave him a glass of water. Val swished and spit, then curled onto his side, face pressed into the pillow. “Why are you here?” Val asked softly, muffled by the pillow.

“Because you are,” Peter answered, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on Valentine’s arm. Val looked pained. “I know,” Peter said, before Val had time to worry about explaining. “It only means he does, not that you do, and even if we get similar results, I don’t want to lose you. If you want to leave because you want to leave, that’s one thing. If you’re trying to protect me, it doesn’t help, it makes everything worse.”

Val turned his face back into the pillow, and Peter rubbed his neck and head. Val typically had headaches when he woke up like this, and the gentle massages usually helped. Who would comfort him if he left? Peter ached at the thought of Valentine being alone. 

Time passed immeasurably, and Peter kept soothing. He knew it was hard for Valentine, this intimacy, this closeness, and Peter found himself in new emotional territory as well. Peter hadn’t loved anyone as deeply or unselfishly as he loved Valentine. Peter imagined if anyone else packed up and left, he would have let them go, would have been hurt that they left. 

It hurt, oh it hurt, when Peter came home to an empty house, Val’s stuff gone, and a line from a Rumi poem, but he didn’t feel like Valentine was rejecting him, as he might have felt with someone else. He likely would have nursed his own wounds, and he wouldn’t be here now, finding out what really happened. Instead he would have sat in the apartment imagining the worst. Val tensed and Peter brought the bin back, Val groaned painfully, and they went through the same routine, Peter bringing back a clean bin, and another cool washcloth.

Val was propped up in bed, his eyes bloodshot, dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale. “This is what you want?” Val asked his throat dry sounding, shaking his head. 

“No, I don’t want ‘this’ for you,” Peter said, sitting next to him on the bed, “but I do want you, all of you the good, the bad, the boring, and the mundane, all of it.”

Val smirked, “I have never been boring, take that back.” 

“You’ve never been boring,” Peter acquiesced, “How’s your head?” Valentine smiled tightly, and shook his head. 

“It’s better if I sit up,” Val answered softly. Peter slid next to him, and Val let his head fall to Peter’s shoulder. 

“So what’s your plan?” Peter asked, his hands still stroking. Val sucked in a breath and Peter could feel him trembling. “I’m really sorry,” Peter breathed out, it was difficult to explain all that the apology covered, that Peter had let him down, that Peter had failed to protect them then, that Val was suffering now because Peter had shot someone, possibly out of vengeance. 

“I don’t know that I have,” Val offered, “a plan,” he shrugged. 

“I want you to come home, and I want to do this together.”

“Want?” Valentine asked with a tight laugh.

“I don’t want to spar with you, of course I don’t ‘want’ this. I love you, and I do want to be with you no matter what, and to help you get through this, whatever ‘this’ ends up being.”

“Have you ever seen someone dying of,” Val’s sentence trailed off, and he was holding his own chest, like it was hard to breath.

“First, we don’t know that you have anything. If you do, there are a lot of treatments and potential positive outcomes. Last, I want to be with you regardless of the outcomes. We got in this together, and I want to get to the other side together.” 

“That may not be an option,” Valentine said miserably. 

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this, and I wish there was some way for me to take it from you,” Peter said, his fingers, cupping Val’s face, stroking the stubble there. 

“And if I die?” Val asked, not looking up, his eyes firmly on his hand holding Peter’s. 

“Then that will happen,” Peter said swallowing hard, tears pricking his eyes. “But if that is going to happen, then I want all the time I can get,” he said slowly, the thought painful to imagine. “If you knew I was going to die tomorrow, would you kick me out?” Peter asked.

“This is different,” Valentine said.

“Is there an objective difference?”

“I don’t want you to watch, and be there,” Valentine shrugged. “It’s awful.”

“It’s more awful to imagine not being there,” Peter said, and he kissed Valentine, trying to convey in the language Valentine was comfortable with that he needed him, wanted him, and wanted to be with him. Valentine kissed back, his hands shaking a little as they wrapped around Peter. The mattress squeaked as Val shifted.

“For the love of!” Backstrom yelled, “if you guys are doing what I think you’re doing!” Backstrom threatened. Peter and Val both laughed. 

“Your brother hates me,” Peter whispered. 

“I thought love and hate were the same energy,” Val started.

“I thought they were too, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t apply to Backstrom.” 

“I’m coming in,” Backstrom yelled, “I expect everyone to be decent and not gross.” Val let his head fall back as he watched Peter. Backstrom came in, with two beers, and he handed one to Valentine. “Take his stuff out the car,” Backstrom said to Peter. 

“I thought you said I could stay,” Val said, shooting him one of his looks with a smirk and a smile. Peter stood and grabbed the bags, leaving the brothers alone. He definitely owed Backstrom.

“Yeah, when it wasn’t going to be work for me,” Backstrom defended, and Val smiled wider. 

“It’s not because you want me to be happy?” Val asked, tilting his head, his eyes flicking towards Backstrom, his lashes fluttering.

“What? No. Who could be happy with Noodlemayer? Gross. This is because you took my last beer when you left, you deserve him,” Backstrom groused, sipping his beer. Val leaned forward and hugged Backstrom, who went stiff. After a moment, Backstrom hugged him back. “I don’t hate having you for a brother,” Backstrom whispered, his grip tightening for a moment. Val sniffed in, and swallowed hard. 

“I love you,” Val whispered softly, then he pulled back kissing Backstrom’s head. “Try to stay out of trouble, and stop letting prostitutes on your boat,” he quipped, backing away as uncomfortable saying the ‘L” word as Backstrom probably was hearing it. Backstrom looked stunned, then he looked away and sipped his beer. Val watched him squirm for a bit, and then ducked into the main living area. Peter was coming down the steps.

“Ready?” Peter asked, his hands going to Val’s waist, his mouth finding Val’s, kissing. 

“I swear - Stop groping my brother or I will shoot you,” Backstrom yelled from the bedroom. 

****  
Val held both envelopes in his hand, he licked his lips, and studied Peter’s face. His attorney had dropped off the first packet, a signed and sealed deal with Natasha’s team. In it was a statement absolving Peter of any wrongdoing, and Peter’s attorney was on his way to get the dismissal against Peter, and then to work on his reinstatement to full active police duty. The other envelope was from the clinic with his results, and he wasn’t quite ready to open that one. He tried for a moment but his fingers felt numb. 

Val listened as Peter’s key hit the lock, the light footsteps he made entering the apartment, the sounds of the door being locked again. Time seemed to slip by slowly, and Val knew once he opened the envelope nothing would be the same. He could be thrilled, which he considered a dim possibility, or everything would be so final. Val flinched. It was Schrodinger's envelope. As long as he didn’t open it, there was hope, and, he didn’t know. Val turned the envelope again, as if shifting it would result in more desirable answers, like shaking a magic 8-ball and reasking the same question. He set the envelope to his side and picked up the other one. Peter found him and smiled, coming to the couch and dropping down beside him, kissing him, his hands finding his cheek. 

“How was your day?” Peter asked, dropping on the couch, and Val curled up so his back was against Peter’s chest, he stayed low so he could watch Peter’s face. Peter looked down so lovingly, and Valentine closed his eyes, drinking it in. Peter loved him. He would always have this moment. As Val opened his eyes, he noted the quizzical look Peter was giving him. Valentine smiled. 

“I am going to give you something, and I know it’s going ot piss you off, but before you waste your energy on that, just know that it’s done and both of our lives are better,” Val said shooting Peter a stern look. Peter sighed and wore a look of trepidation. Valentine handed him the envelope. “The happy news, is that you are cleared and you can return to duty.”

Peter watched Valentine closely, as he started to open the envelope, “I’m not sure why that would piss me off,” Peter evenly. 

“It’s not the result, it’s the method,” Valentine shrugged. Peter read the document, and Valentine could feel the tension in his body. Val could even tell he was fairly certain Peter wanted to yell which was unusual in and of itself. Val remained quiet, letting him process. 

“Why did you do this?” Peter asked, then shook his head. “Nevermind, I know why you did it. I wish you hadn’t.” Val nodded. “Can we move towards discussing important decisions with each other?”

“You didn’t tell me about the deal,” Val observed, turning his head to watch Peter in the window reflection. Peter looked away, and Val could feel the anger rippling beneath the surface.

“That’s different,” Peter said.

“It’s always different when you’re the one with the secret,” Val observed softly. Peter nodded, and licked his lips. Valentine could feel him trying to find an argument that supported his feelings, but there wasn’t one. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you, you didn’t tell me because you wanted to protect me, there are worse reasons to omit information from each other,” Val continued, his hands fidgeting over his stomach. 

“I want to disagree with you,” Peter said, but Valentine could tell by his tone, that Peter knew he was right. 

“I know you don’t like my decision, but it was mine to make. Just like you made yours,” Valentine offered. Peter smiled a little bitterly. 

“I wish you weren’t so smart,” Peter argued, “you’re going to be a great lawyer,” he observed more kindly. 

“That brings us to door number 2,” Val said, holding up the other envelope, and this time he tensed. Peter let a breath out slowly.

“Did you open it,” he asked, his voice painfully even. Val shook his head.

“I tried,” he said, his voice tight, and he felt tears springing to his eyes. “I couldn’t make my fingers do it.” 

“Do you want me to?” Peter asked, and Val could feel Peter itching to grab the envelope. Val turned it again, ‘let the results be negative magic 8-ball’ he thought. Val sucked in a slow breath and released, as Peter had taught him. 

“Yeah,” Val said, holding the large envelope at the bottom. Valentine saw Peter was trying not to tremble, but his fingers gave him away. Peter ripped the top, and grabbed the sheet of paper, Val pulled the envelope down as Peter pulled the paper up. Val closed his eyes. 

“It’s negative,” Peter said, and there was a wet choking sound in his voice.

“Negative like bad, or negative like negative,” Val asked, his own voice rough, and tense. 

“Negative like negative, like great news,” Peter said, Val flipped in his lap, wrapping his arms around Peter, kissing him, deeply. His chest hurt, he hadn’t expected good news to feel like a punch to his chest, but it did. His body was relaxing as the news sank in, and he didn’t know how tense he’d been, slowly winding up every day that drifted by. Now that the threat wasn’t there, he felt suddenly unfurled, off balance, he didn’t know how to operate without the sense of dread weighing him down.

Peter was kissing him, his mouth, neck, chest, everywhere and he was laughing a relieved sound. Peter’s arms squeezing, perhaps too tightly, but Val welcomed the reassurance. He was awake, this wasn’t a dream, everything was okay. Val laid down on the couch, and pulled Peter on top of him, Peter’s hands caressing Val, and Val’s hands were roaming his back, neck, they continued kissing. Val smiled, the happiness starting to penetrate the doubt. 

Peter stilled, lifting his head to look down at Valentine, his hand holding his face. He smiled and just watched him for several moments. “What?” Val asked, the loving look starting to make him squirm. 

“I just love you,” Peter said, and he lowered his lips to Valentine’s again who reciprocated a long, kiss, tongues exploring at leisure where there had been hesitation before, and longing. 

“Want to go,” Val nodded towards the bedroom, and Peter tensed. “Or not,” Val shrugged, averting his gaze. Peter closed his eyes, and then sat up pulling Valentine with him. 

“You know that’s not why we haven’t,” Peter said, and he was the one who looked uncomfortable.

“I’m sure it was at least a little the reason,” Valentine said. 

“I want to,” Peter said swallowing. “I just feel like, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What you were doing was a good start,” Valentine encouraged smirking, leaning in to kiss Peter again. 

“I,” Peter started, and he looked pained. “I can’t stop thinking about,” and Peter let the sentence trail off as he met Valentine’s gaze. Valentine nodded. 

“I don’t blame you,” Valentine said, and even though he’d probably told Peter a thousand times, it didn’t have any of the usual exasperation someone might have in repeating the same thing. Valentine was keenly aware of how long it could take to stop blaming yourself or feeling guilty about a sexual assault. 

Peter let a hand go to Val’s cheek and neck, kissing him, and tucking Val against this chest, wrapping his arms around him. “I know. You’re great, too great. I just don’t know how I was capable of,” Peter shook his head. 

“Peter?” Val said softly.

“Yeah.”

“I just want you to think about it, okay? You can’t have it both ways. Either we were both assaulted, and it doesn’t matter who did what, it matters who was responsible - Natasha is responsible,” Val said firmly. Peter nodded automatically.

“Or we both weren’t. You didn’t do anything to hurt me on purpose and you weren’t even careless with my feelings. It’s not like you accidently hit me, lost your temper and punched me, or came home drunk and forced me,” Val leaned back, so he could look at Peter. Peter’s eyes briefly went to his, but he looked away again.

“She was going to kill me if you didn't cooperate,” Val watched him, seeing the comment startled Peter, but sunk in. “You saved our lives, that’s it. It doesn’t matter how you saved it, but you did everything you could to keep me safe. And I did things to keep you safe too. We were surviving, and that’s all that happened. We can wait as long as you need to, I just want to keep reassuring you of what happened,” Valentine said slowly, “whatever damage happened was on her and them.”

“How do you separate that, how do you not feel guilty, not that you have any guilt in this situation, but,” Peter asked, and Val silenced him with a kiss. 

“I kept saying it until I believed it. I decided that what had been taken from me, I couldn’t have back,” Val said with a wince and another tear slid by, “but that I didn’t want them to have anymore. Any of them.” Val said. “It started to feel like they were still controlling me, taking things from me,” Val licked his lips. 

“Does it feel that way now, because I won’t,” Peter said, looking at Val’s body, “because I can’t bring myself to, am I hurting you by withholding,” and Peter put his hand over Val’s heart, and leaned against his chest. Val’s arms immediately came around, holding him. 

“I don’t think you need to start inventing reasons to feel guilty. We can be different in how we handle things. I can wait. I just want you to know that I don’t think of what happened when you touch me. I remember how much you love,” and Val stumbled over the word, as he often did, “me,” he finished as if he was convincing himself that Peter meant it when he said he loved him. “I remember how you stayed with me after the roof incident. I remember how patient you were with me during nightmares. I remember how incredible you are,” Val finished with a whisper. Peter hugged him tighter. “I also remember how amazing you are in bed,” Val whispered playfully, “and how good you make me feel.”

“And how good you make me feel,” Peter said, relaxing a little. “I’m just, I don’t want you to picture that, or be afraid of me, I don’t want to do something that reminds you,” Peter said, shaking his head. “Do you doubt it a little bit? That maybe I enjoyed it?”

“Do you?” Val asked, rubbing Peter’s shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Peter confessed. Val smiled. 

“I know all the things you like, Peter,” he said reassuringly, “I know that you didn’t enjoy it.” Peter sighed, and laughed a little. “What if we take sex off the table,” Val suggested. “You can say no, but we can lay in bed, and just touch, make new memories, explore together. Start and stop as we like.” Peter watched him thinking it over. 

“When I had trouble going outside,” Val said, the memory still painful. “Part of the issue was the imagining it, and not doing it, and imagining the worst case,” Val swallowed. “I’m suggesting that we test the waters, no expectations. And you know I’m very talented, I can take care of myself if I need to,” Val smirked, and shot him a sultry look. Peter smiled, ducking his head. Val stood, pulling Peter’s arms. Peter came willingly, but his steps were a little halting. 

“Just say no, anytime, no questions,” Val said, maneuvering them to the foot of the bed. Val’s fingers crept under Peter’s shirt, and started to lift. Slowly Val let his fingers touch Peter’s chest, and spread out, he kissed flesh as it was revealed, and Peter moaned softly. He started to put his hands around Valentine, but then went to his shoulders. Val stayed like that for long moments, his hands making their way to Peter’s pants, undoing the belt, and removing them. Val left the boxers as Peter tensed, and went back to kissing, and touching. Peter let his hands drift down to Valentine’s shirt, and hesitated at the hem, and Val reassured him, placing his hands over Peter’s and helping him lift. 

Peter’s hands trembled and Val pulled his fingers to his mouth, kissing, and then sucking a finger, his tongue caressing, Peter’s breath came in shallow gasps, his eyes opened watching Val with such desire. Val watched him from lowered lashes. Val stepped in so their bodies were close, pressing against each other. Val maneuvered them so that they were lying side by side on the bed, hands still caressing, mouths still exploring. Valentine could feel Peter growing harder, but there was still hesitance in his touch. 

Val smiled and Peter saw his gaze. “I’m still attracted to you,” Peter said, a little embarrassed, “I think I’m more worried that you aren’t as attracted,” Peter said, but Val used his tongue to silence him.

“Would it help,” Val asked, kissing, letting his tongue delve deeply, his hands pulling Peter closer, firm pressure coaxing, “if I masterbated to a picture of you, you could see what you do for me,” Val suggested, his hands and tongue returning to their exploration. Peter moaned, his hands hesitating and then pulling Valentine on top of him. Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, erections pressing against each other and Peter’s eyes fluttered shut, as Val moaned his own approval. Val ducked his head and started kissing his way down Peter’s chest to his stomach, and his back arched. Peter tensed immediately, and his hand went to Val’s back, as he made a small strangled noise, tracing one of the marks.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed, and Val turned it off as if they hadn’t been in the throes of passion. He crawled back up Peter’s body, pulling Peter so they were face to face, his arms going around him, comforting and not sexual.

“No apologies,” Val said, kissing him, a gentler, less seductive tongue finding Peter’s mouth. “That was fun,” Val said, watching him. Peter closed his eyes and laughed.

“You really are good at everything,” he said and there was a pained look. “Can I see them?” Peter asked, stroking Val’s side. Val nodded and turned onto his stomach. 

***  
Peter had been changing and cleaning the wounds on Valentine’s back, but he hadn’t examined them. He’d done it with detached clinical eyes, as the sight of them made him ill. Val lay still, his head on his hands, watching Peter. Peter suddenly regretted asking, his fingers lightly traced the marks. They were healed, but most would leave a scar. Val was typically careful to keep most of his back covered, and Peter hadn’t really seen the entire landscape of damage all at once. 

His hand trembled as he touched one of them, tracing it, it was at least eight inches long and Peter had done that. Could he have hit lighter? Was there a way to do less damage? His chest felt tight and tears stung his eyes. “I am really so so sorry,” Peter apologized, wincing at the sight of them. 

“I know,” Val said, his hand drifting towards Peter, stroking his stomach, and ribs. 

“I keep replaying it, wondering if,” Peter shook his head, his hand resting on the small of Valentine’s back. 

“It’s okay,” Val comforted, smiling tightly. 

“I promised you,” Peter said, staring deeply into Valentine’s eyes. “You said everyone who ever loved you hurt you, and I promised not to. It didn't even last a month, and,” Peter’s hands traced Valentine’s back, his eyes drifting to the marks. 

“I don’t blame you,” Val said again, in a patient tone. “I’m not some abused partner Peter, you didn’t hurt me on purpose. I’m not making excuses for you. She was going to kill me unless you did what she wanted. Would you have done it otherwise? Do you have the desire now to hurt me?” Val asked.

“No!” Peter snapped, “of course not,” Peter shook his head. 

“You’re still you,” Valentine assured him.

“But I cooperated.”

“I cooperated with Trippi,” Val offered, “he said I could leave anytime, and I chose to stay,” Val shrugged. 

“That is completely different.” 

“Peter,” Val called softly, turning onto his back, his hands cupping Peter’s face, pulling him closer. “You weren’t not hurt. I know your focused on how injured I was, but we both got hurt. It doesn’t matter who you think got hurt more. We did what we had to to survive which has nothing to do with us, who we are, who we are with each other,” Val explained slowly. 

“But I got something out of it.” 

Valentine laughed loudly, and shook his head. “Tell me what you got out of it?” he invited, his eyes wide. 

“You know,” Peter said gesturing towards his waist, and wincing, “I.”

“You had an orgasm?” Val asked, arching his eyebrows and tilting his head. “That was the least pleasurable orgasm I have ever seen.” Peter kept his head down, he knew what Valentine was saying, but it was difficult.

“When,” Val swallowed painfully this time. He licked his lips and Peter’s eyes flicked up to watch him. “When,” Val said again, his eyes going wide, “the boogeyman,” Val said, the name making him shudder. “Twice,” Val said, and Peter could see Val was having to dig deep for the information he was about to share. “I’ve never told anyone,” Val said, and he dropped his hands, retreating slightly, his arms hugging his own chest. Val breathed out, but he wasn’t looking at Peter now, he was clearly working up courage.

“You don’t have to,” Peter said quickly, his hand going to Val’s shoulder. Val shook his head.

“Twice, when he was,” Val said, “I responded and I couldn’t stop. He was hurting me,” Val said, fresh, raw pain in his voice, his breathing shallow, he shook his head, “but my body,” Val said gesturing, “he kept whispering how much he loved me, and that this was love, that my body loved him,” Val explained. 

“You don’t have to,” Peter said reassuringly, not wanting to cause Val to relive the moments. 

“He was so excited, and he threw it in my face, how much I liked it,” Val said, and he fell quiet. Peter watched as Val slid onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “How much I must like the pain,” Val finished, swallowing hard, and trying to reign in his breathing. “It didn’t matter the other times when nothing happened, he kept reminding me how,” Val pressed his lips together. Val turned his head to look at Peter. “I thought maybe that was love, maybe I did like it, I had gotten aroused, I had orgasmed,” Val shrugged. “Things are not always as they appear,” Val offered, his hand drifting to hold Peter’s. “I didn’t like it, okay?” Val said, but it sounded like a question, almost like he was trying to convince Peter. 

“I know,” Peter said, kissing his cheek, sliding closer, so his body was pressed against Val’s. 

“You didn’t either, I believe you,” Val offered. Peter felt something in his chest give way then. A dark spot that whispered to his heart that he had enjoyed it, that he had punished Valentine on purpose for kissing Uruk, Alexy, and Henri, as Natasha’s dark mocking voice suggested Valentine deserved it.

“I was mad when I hit you,” Peter confessed.

“Mad at me?” Val asked. Peter shook his head. 

“She kept saying you deserved it for kissing,” Peter trailed off, “and wasn’t I mad that you were,” Peter shrugged. “I was mad, but I don’t think I was mad at you. I didn’t want to hit you,” Peter said. “But it feels like I punished you.”

Val chewed on the inside of his lip contemplating Peter, deep in thought, his eyes distant. “I mean, to some extent,” Val shrugged. “I make you mad a lot, and you’ve never hit me. I’m still convinced this was all her, and she’s just fucking with us. She twists things. She basically asked us if we wanted to be punched in the face or slapped in the face, and then used the fact that we choose the least painful option as agreement.”

Peter watched Val’s chest rise and fall. His hand tentatively, stroking. 

“Would you have hit me if she said you didn’t have to?” Val asked.

“No,” Peter said quickly. 

“So,” Val baited.

“So,” Peter breathed out, “what if Backstrom was right, what if I didn’t try hard enough because there is some part of me that wanted,” Peter trailed off, his hand withdrawing. Val shook his head. 

“I think that if there was some part of you that wanted to hurt me, you would know it,” Val said softly. Peter bit the inside of his cheek. 

“She fucked with us, and that’s what she meant to do,” Val reassured him. “She twists things. You can’t believe anything she said to you.” Peter nodded but didn’t look convinced.

“I kissed them, Natasha, Uruk, I teased them, so I could distract them and get the pills to dose them. Do you think that I really wanted to touch them or be touched by them?” Val asked, and Peter looked stricken, shaking his head in denial. “But maybe deep down I did, because I didn’t think of another way to distract them?” Val shrugged, his eyes squinting, trying to see if Peter was following. “Or maybe I have some fantasy about being raped by you, when you resisted I blew you to get you aroused,” Val pointed out. “Or maybe I wanted Uruk, I certainly didn’t find a way to,” Val swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes then.

“Stop,” Peter said, “just stop, you did what you had to do,” Peter defended firmly, “none of those things are true, or your fault.”

“That, right there,” Val said, sitting up, and pointing at him, “that feeling you have that I did what I had to, that’s exactly how I feel about what you did. If we had more time, maybe we both would have come up with different plans. But we survived, and we are here together because we both did fucked up things to keep each other safe. Things we wouldn’t have done if some crazy bitch wasn’t threatening us.” 

Peter stilled, his eyes drifting around. It felt like more little tendrils of evil were unfurling from his heart, poison Natasha had breathed into his soul. Twisting him, and using his love for Valentine against him. Convincing him he could have stopped what happened. He watched Valentine, so sure, so confident him, and that stung too because Peter didn’t feel like he could be sure of himself. 

“Je t’aime,” Val whispered leaning in close, his lips finding Peter’s, Peter closed his eyes, opening his mouth as Valentine’s tongue slid past his lips, massaging Peter’s own tongue. Peter felt a wave of desire and longing, he wanted to be closer to Valentine, and he heard a Natasha’s voice in his mind, but he silenced it, pushing it away. Peter’s arms went around Valentine, he pulled him close, kissing him, gently but urgently. 

“Je t’aime,” Peter said, his eyes finding Valentine, letting himself absorb the loving and trusting gaze Valentine had for him. Letting Val’s desire sear into him, and Peter kissed him again, they finished undressing each other. Peter let himself sink into Valentine, slowly, it had been so long, and Val moaned under him, his arms pulling Peter closer. Peter’s mind blanked out any other thoughts or memories, just feeling Valentine around him, touching him, squeezing him, thrusting against him, and Peter, let the feelings of love wash over him. “I love you, Je t’aime, you’re amazing,” Peter said, thrusting, finding the rhythm he knew Valentine liked. 

“More,” Val gasped, his own arms, pulling Peter closer, his hips grinding. Peter let his hand go between their bodies, finding Valentine’s erection, he shifted so Val was on his side, and Peter was behind him, Val bucked into his hand and back against Peter’s erection, finding a pleasurable dance, that had Valentine writhing, Peter was lost in Val’s passion, watching his lips part, his face flushing red with arousal, sweat on his brow. Peter watched through half lidded eyes, the friction and sliding, creating pleasure tendrils across his body. Valentine’s arm went behind him, grasping Peter, pulling him close, his body tensing, and Peter couldn’t stop himself as he felt Val’s orgasm spilling into his hand, he shuddered, lost in the ecstasy, both panting, still thrusting, each movement causing ripples of pleasure to spread through their bodies. Peter continued kissing Val’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck, and Valentine squeezed and pulled him close, neither wanting to lose the closeness or touch they felt. Val wrapped Peter’s arms around him, and pressed his back firmly to Peter’s chest, letting his head fall back as Peter kissed his throat and pulse points. 

Peter continued whispering words of love, and desire. They stayed together, pressed as firmly as they could be, languishing in the feel of each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for coming along this far, I hope you don't regret your life choices. 
> 
> As always kudos are good, but comments are better :)


End file.
